Wish In A Bottle
by Potgenie
Summary: Sometimes, when you're hopeful enough, what may normally seem impossible starts to appear otherwise. For Takeru, one little bottle of the dubiously-dubbed "Miracle Powder" was enough. "...Takeru could never look at a packet of flour the same way again."
1. Miracle Powder

**Wish In A Bottle: A Digimon Fanfiction  
Chapter One**

* * *

It all started so innocuously, on a hot, sweltering summer day.

Takeru could never look at a packet of flour the same way again.

_

_8__th__ May, Saturday_

About one or two Saturdays a month, the boys of the new group of Chosen Children met up for a little fun together. A boys-only outing, that was what it was called – no girls allowed. It sounded childish, and Miyako and Hikari _were _fun to hang out with, but sometimes what they wanted was a trip to the mall without any shopping, or a little crude-joke sharing without any disgusted comments.

The weather was too hot to do anything productive that particular day ("Thirty-five degrees Celcius!" Iori had exclaimed in horror), so when Takeru, Daisuke, Ken and Iori met up, they decided to spend a good part of the day at the mall's ice-cream parlour.

"Ahhh," Daisuke sighed, licking whipped cream off his spoon. "This is the life."

"Are we really going to spend the entire day here?" Iori asked, casting a worried glance at the bunch of waiters and waitresses gathered near the counter. "The staff might not be happy with that..."

"Geez, Iori, relax!" Daisuke laughed. "We're giving them business, after all. I might order another ice-cream, I don't feel cool enough."

"_Another_?" Takeru stared at him in amazement. "This is what, your third bowl?"

Daisuke smiled sheepishly, and everyone chuckled. "We could go and walk around, or something." Ken offered.

"Walk around where?" Iori asked.

"I heard that there're a new bunch of roadside stalls behind the mall, selling some weird stuff." Ken said thoughtfully. "They might have some interesting things..."

"It'll be _blazing_! There's no air-con outside the mall." Daisuke complained. The others were, however, all for exploring the stalls as they had been in the ice-cream parlour for nearly two hours. So, after paying, the quartet left for the stalls.

* * *

The stalls were a weird bunch of things, really. Colourful and exotic-looking, they looked pretty out-of-place next to the modern exterior of the shopping centre. They looked like part of a carnival – wooden tables with merchandise displayed all over, and colourful cloth shelters overhead. There were about three of them, and the boys approached the first one (the cloth shelter was brightly coloured: bold orange and red stripes) with slight trepidation.

"Who told you about these stalls, Ken?" Daisuke asked.

"My grandmother," Ken replied. He smiled politely at the vendor, a plump, middle-aged woman, and picked up a magnet shaped like a toilet bowl. He opened it and jumped slightly at the surprisingly loud farting sound. "Erm, I'm guessing she hasn't visited them personally..."

Daisuke laughed and took the magnet from Ken. "This is so kooky, it's actually funny!"

"Well, you've got to admit, this is interesting," Takeru said, opening an intricately carved musical box. A snake slowly uncoiled itself from the middle of the box, twirling to the melody of the music. "I've never seen such a musical box before!"

"All the items sold here are on discount right now," the vendor said eagerly. "That musical box is selling at a low, low price of six hundred and fifty-five yen!"

"Oh, er, thanks, but it's alright." Takeru said, closing the musical box. It emitted a strange hissing sound as the lid snapped shut. Putting it back onto the table, he turned to his friends. "I'll go take a look at the next stall." He told them.

"Right," the trio replied; each one of them was apparently transfixed with a different item from that particular stall.

Takeru wandered off by himself to the next stall. It was as bright and colourful as the rest (green polka dots on a yellow background), but strangely enough, instead of all sorts of merchandise, only a few glass bottles were displayed on the table. Takeru examined the bottles; each contained some sort of white-coloured powder that looked like flour. There were no labels on the bottles. Mystified, he turned to the vendor.

"What are these?" He queried, pointing at the powder.

"Ooh," the vendor said as he stood up. His appearance, Takeru thought, was as strange as the rest of the stall – he wore oversized glasses that looked as though they were falling off, and a huge, flowing white cloak. Strongly reminded of Professor Trelawney from the Harry Potter books, Takeru resisted the urge to laugh.

"This is my special Miracle Powder," the vendor told him, lowering his voice in a most mysterious manner. Takeru leaned closer. "Use them properly, and they will make any wish you have come true..."

"Seriously?" Takeru laughed, unable to stop himself. "How do you use it, then?"

The vendor did not seem perturbed by his incredulity. Instead, he picked up a bottle and held it in an almost reverent manner. "It's very simple, really. If the wish is regarding yourself, you mix the miracle powder with water and drink it. Any drink will do, as long as it's not milk. If the wish is regarding someone else, get them to drink it. You yourself are not to drink it, however, if other people are involved in your wish."

"And how do I know if it's reliable?" Takeru asked sceptically. He couldn't believe that such a stall was able to exist next to a huge shopping mall. How could it possibly profit?

"You will know once you try," the vendor said, giving him a small smile. "Hope is enough to achieve anything," he added, his smile widening.

Takeru blinked. "Er, I guess." He didn't know why he suddenly felt ashamed – ashamed for feeling sceptical about this when he was, after all, the child of Hope.

"So, my dear child..." the vendor looked at him meaningfully. "Do you have any wish you would like to grant?"

"Well..." Takeru hesitated, uncertain. He thought for a while, but nothing came to his mind. "I guess-"

"Hey, Takeru!" Daisuke called, interrupting his train of thoughts. He turned around to see the others making their way over; Daisuke was swinging a plastic bag from his hands. "I bought the toilet bowl magnet!"

"Sorry, but I have to go now," Takeru said. The vendor looked a little disappointed, but did not say anything; he simply waved in his strange, mysterious manner. Takeru hurried over to his friends, now engaged in a most ridiculous conversation about what Daisuke was going to do with his newly-purchased magnet.

* * *

The next day was a free day for Takeru; he lay in bed, irritated by the sunrays that were streaming in through the window. His curtains were so thin that the rays could easily pass through. He groaned and rolled over, wanting to get back to sleep.

"Takeru dear!" His mother called chirpily, opening his bedroom door. "It's time to wake up!"

"Blearrgah," Takeru replied into his pillow, annoyed. "I'm still sleeping."

"Well, if you're replying me then I suppose you're not sleeping anymore, are you?" Natsuko Takaishi replied cheerfully. "It's too hot to sleep." She went over to the window and drew the curtains. "Besides, it's almost ten in the morning!"

_Ten in the morning._ That was far too early for Takeru. Next to him, Patamon rolled over and snored softly. "Don't you have to work today, mum?" His mother's working hours were pretty irregular, and she often had to work on weekends.

"Oh, no, I took a day off to clean the house." Natsuko Takaishi smiled at him. "Besides, it's been awhile since we spent the day together!"

Takeru groaned and forced himself to sit up. Every once in awhile his mother got guilty about not spending enough time with him. On the pretext of cleaning the house/falling sick/or some other reason, she would take a day off to spend it with him. Takeru had never blamed her for having to work – she had to support the family, after all – but he wasn't complaining. However, sometimes it got a bit awkward, just the two of them together.

"I was thinking of cleaning out the set of drawers in the living room. The one next to the television," Natsuko continued as Takeru got out of bed grudgingly and headed to the bathroom.

"That drawer?" Takeru said miserably, squeezing toothpaste onto his green toothbrush. "It'll take forever! We haven't touched it for _years_."

"I know," Natsuko replied at once, "That's why we should clean it out today. I don't want it in a mess for any longer!"

After washing up and a quick breakfast of cereal and milk, Takeru and his mother headed over to the chest of drawers. It was actually a pretty nice set – made of dark cherry wood, and with cute little drawer knobs. In fact, Natsuko had placed it in the living room more for decorative purposes than anything else. What it contained, though... Takeru didn't even want to think about it.

As they approached the drawers, Natsuko turned toward Takeru and gave him a mask, similar to the sort that surgeons wore during an operation. Takeru rolled his eyes as his mother began putting her own on.

"Mum..."

"Just put it on!"

Sighing, Takeru put the mask on. Natsuko was approaching the drawer extremely slowly, and he was reminded of a silent ninja tiptoeing across a narrow wall. "Mum, let's just open it, okay?" He told her, before pulling the first drawer open with a flourish.

A think cloud of dust burst – that was the only word Takeru could think of to describe it at that moment – out of the drawer. He backed away at once, and Natsuko shot him a reproachful look. Takeru stared in amazement. He knew the drawer hadn't been opened in years, but still...

They waited for the dust to settle, then peered into the drawer. Its contents were endless – old books, photograph albums, unwanted junk, used stationery, bits of threads and buttons, old stuffed toys and photo frames... Takeru picked up a silver photo frame gingerly. It was empty and covered with dust. "Hey! Didn't Grandma give this to us for Christmas years ago?"

Natsuko sighed. "We already have so many photo frames in the house, I didn't need another one! It would hurt her feelings if we gave it away or something, so I just kept it in here."

"Well, we're never going to use it, right?" Takeru said firmly. He grabbed the black trash bag that Natsuko had brought in earlier. "We should get rid of it. Or give it away, though I don't see why the needy would need a photo frame."

"Oh, I suppose," Natsuko sighed, and Takeru threw the frame into the trash bag.

For the next few hours the duo examined every ancient artefact in the drawer, either throwing it into the trash bag or putting it in a pile that was for keeps. Natsuko picked up an old stuffed bear in wonderment – she said it had been Takeru's favourite toy when he was a toddler, but he simply had no recollection of it. Natsuko had looked at it fondly, then put it on top of the pile for keeps.

Finally, sweaty and tired, Takeru pulled up the final item from the bottom-most drawer.

"It's a book," Takeru said, wiping the dust off the cover. "Looks like an organiser of some sort... there's no year on it, though."

He opened the book. "It's empty!" He flipped through the first few pages. "Well, you could still use it for a planner or something..." There was no reply, and he looked up. "Er, Mum?"

Natsuko was staring at the book, a strange expression on her face. "Let me see that, Takeru," she said softly, holding out her hands.

He looked down at the book, puzzled. "Come on, Takeru," she repeated more urgently, and he handed it to her.

Natsuko opened the book slightly and shook it. A slip of paper fell from it and onto the floor. She picked it up and examined it, her expression unreadable.

"Mum, are you okay?" Takeru was beginning to feel worried. "Mum!" He tapped her gently on the shoulders and she jumped.

"Oh, sorry," She smiled at him. "I was just thinking about something."

"I could see that," Takeru said, staring curiously at the paper. "What are you holding?"

Natsuko looked down at the paper in her hands, looking uncertain. Feeling a sudden rush of impatience, Takeru pulled the paper out of her hands. She wasn't holding it tightly, and it slipped out of her grasp easily.

It wasn't a piece of paper after all. It was a photograph. It was slightly yellowed and dog-eared around the edges, but the three people within the frame wore bright, cheery smiles. Takeru recognised his older brother, young and toothy, beaming up into the camera; he couldn't have been more than three years old. His mother and father stood behind Yamato. Natsuko was heavily pregnant in the picture – _with me,_ Takeru realised with a jolt – and her smile was gentle and sweet; his father had an arm around her and looked happier than Takeru had ever seen him.

His parents looked so young and carefree, so full of life and love. Takeru did not have many memories of his parents being so happy together; in fact, it was the memories of them arguing that stood out more. But yet – his family looked so happy here... _without me there_, an unbidden thought sprang into his mind. What had changed them so much?

Another memory floated into his mind: the Digidestineds' final battle against BelialVamdemon, just a couple of months ago. He could still remember, vividly, what his dream had been then. He was surprised at himself afterward, because it had never occurred to him that having his whole family together again was something he had wanted so badly. It was funny how the subconscious mind works...

"Takeru?"

His mother's voice was soft and tentative, and Takeru looked up quickly, trying to clear his head. It was absurd that an old photograph would have so much effect on him. _Don't think too much, it's all in the past,_ he told himself firmly.

Takeru smiled at his mother. "You guys look really happy in this photo."

Natsuko smiled sadly. "I was eight months pregnant with you then." She told him.

Takeru stared at the photo for awhile longer, the question fighting to get out of him. Finally, unable to stop himself, he asked it, the words coming out in a rush.

"Why did it all change? When? Was it after I was born?"

A look of understanding spread across Natsuko's face, and she shook her head firmly. "No, Takeru, you had nothing to do with it." Seeing the doubt in her son's eyes, she grabbed his hand. "We were happy; you being born was one of the best things that could've happened to us. It was just that... other things happened."

It occurred to Takeru, then, that he never knew the real reason behind his parents' divorce. Yamato had told him before, rather vaguely, that it was something to do with money.

"Come on, dear," Natsuko said, holding out her hand for the photograph. "We've had a tiring time cleaning out the drawers. Let's go and have a snack or something, okay?"

"Sure," Takeru replied at once, flashing his mother a smile. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to worry; she was busy enough with her job already. He stood up and so did she, and together, they headed for the kitchen.

* * *

A rather uneventful week followed the incident with the photograph. Takeru had a pretty busy week at school. He had a math quiz to study for, and basketball practices to attend. The digidestined also had a visit to the Digital World planned, so that their Digimon, most of whom were now living with them, could visit their old home. The incident slipped to the back of his mind, and he quite forgot about it.

It was Friday evening, and Takeru was rushing home for dinner. The visit to the Digital World had lasted rather long, with everyone caught up with the memories and nostalgia, coupled with a slightly uncomfortable talk about whether they could still go back when they become adults. Patamon had decided to stay over at the Digital World for a while. His neighbours, Miyako and Iori, were heading back with him.

As they reached a turning, Miyako bade them goodbye – she was going to her parents' shop. Iori and him continued on, chatting idly, until they reached Iori's grandfather's place – then they bade goodbye too. Takeru continued on his way home alone.

"Excuse me, boy?"

Takeru turned. A man wearing oversized glasses and a flowing, brown cloak was tottering behind him, his arms full of bags. Takeru thought he looked strangely familiar, and then he remembered – the man was one of the vendors of the quaint little stalls behind the shopping mall – the vendor of those so-called "Miracle Powder"!

"Do you think you could help me with these?" The man asked him, nodding at the bags in his hands. "They contain fragile things, and I'm afraid I'll drop them..."

"Sure," Takeru said at once. He relieved the man of three bags, and he sighed in relief. "Thanks so much, boy."

"You're the stall vendor of one of those stalls near the mall, aren't you?" Takeru asked.

The man looked surprised and confused for a moment. "Er, do I know you?"

"I visited your stall recently," Takeru replied, seeing that the man had absolutely no idea who he was. "I don't think you remember..."

The man chuckled. "I'm sorry. Seeing people walk by my stall day and night, it's difficult to remember their faces." He looked at Takeru. "My name is Mike, by the way."

"I'm Takeru," Takeru replied politely.

"Takeru... nice to meet you," Mike shot him a sudden, mysterious look. "You do know that in your hands are my precious bottles of Miracle Powder, don't you... do be careful with them."

"I will," Takeru replied. The man looked thoughtful for a while, then suddenly assumed what looked like a business-like smile. All at once, Takeru knew what was coming.

It was most unfortunate that Takeru and Mike shared much of the same route home. For the next ten minutes, he endured Mike's constant praise of the Miracle Powder, its effects described in an unearthly, mysterious manner – his way of promoting his products, Takeru thought with annoyance.

Mike was beginning to look a little desperate now, for they were reaching the corner where they would go their separate ways. All manners of mystery gone, he said quickly, "As you've done me a good deed today, Takeru, I will give you a special discount for my Miracle Powder. One bottle for five hundred yen – it's normally sold at a thousand! Half-price! How about that?"

Takeru looked at the man. He was highly unconvinced that the Powder had any special powers. He had the feeling that Mike was a big phony, rapidly losing business because his products were, well, fakes. But the desperation laced in the man's voice was evident. _He probably really needs to sell his products_, a small voice in Takeru's head spoke. _Five hundred yen wouldn't hurt; Mum gives me more than enough for allowance._

If Miyako was still here, she would have dragged Takeru off before he gave in. As it was, he made his decision on his own – pulling out his wallet, he took out five hundred yen and gave it to Mike.

"I'll have a bottle, then."

**TBC**

**Alright, no surprises or cliffhangers here, I'm pretty sure it's obvious where this story is leading to. I hope it's still an enjoyable read though, because... sometimes clichéd stuff are the best! Digimon was my favourite anime when I was young, and probably still is (since I've only watched like, what, three animes?) and it's great revisiting it in terms of fanfiction writing. I don't think I've ever written such a long chapter before, and I hope it wasn't too much rambling. So guys, please review and tell me what you think! Constructive (i.e. polite) criticisms are most welcome!**


	2. Strawberry Cakes and Magical Flour

**Second chapter, yayness! I'm trying to get a new chapter up every week. Thanks for the reviews, they were much appreciated. I'm going to type the replies here:**

**To mistress_editor: **Hey! Nope I don't find your criticism annoying at all; I don't mind them as long as they're polite and constructive. I've never watched the dubbed version of Digimon, frankly (except for the first three episodes of Season One, I think) and I'm always forgetting which one is the Japanese term. Thanks for the note, I've made the according changes to chapter one. And I agree with the crest jokes. I don't think I've made any (the reference to Takeru as the Child of Hope was not meant to be a joke, by the way).

About the set of drawers... it's not the size that is scary, really, it's the contents of it. As I mentioned they had not touched it in YEARS, so they're pretty apprehensive about cleaning it out. Heh.

Also about the "a while" thing. I think I switched back and forth between "awhile" and "a while", but I didn't realise it. "Awhile" is actually acceptable when the word before that is not "for". Thanks for pointing it out!

So I've made some changes to the mistakes I've made, and I hope that apart from these errors you did enjoy the chapter!

**To Aster Selene: **Thanks for the review! And oopsie about the dollars and Yens thing. It never crossed my mind! I've changed the error in chapter one, thanks!

**To Xanpluto: **I'm glad you liked my story! I hope you'll enjoy chapter two as well.

**Right, replies done, it's on with the story now!**

**

* * *

**

Wish In A Bottle: A Digimon Fanfiction  
Chapter Two

_

* * *

_

16th May, Sunday

"Miracle Powder, huh?"

Patamon gazed at the bottle of white powder, his eyes lit with great interest. "Will it really create miracles, Takeru?" The digimon queried, turning to look at his human partner.

Takeru shrugged and sat down on his chair. The pair were in his bedroom, examining the bottle of Powder that Takeru had bought just two days ago. Takeru had put it right in the middle of his study desk, and now the two of them were peering at it as though hoping for something to happen.

Patamon was sprawled lazily on the desk, but now he flew up in excitement. "We should try it out!" He exclaimed.

Takeru chuckled at his digimon's innocence. "Frankly, Patamon, I don't think this is really Miracle Powder."

"Then what do you think it is?"

"I'm not very sure, but I think the guy who was selling it is probably one of those cheats, you know, those vendors that claim their goods are really great when they're actually not," Takeru replied.

Patamon frowned slightly. "But that's not very nice!"

"Yeah," Takeru sighed, "However, there's nothing much we can do about it, unfortunately."

Still frowning, Patamon returned his gaze to the bottle. He gently prodded it with one of his front paws, as though he was afraid that the bottle would explode once it was touched. Takeru laughed.

"Why did you buy it if you think it's fake, Takeru?" Patamon asked.

"The guy seemed so desperate to sell his stuff, I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him," Takeru replied, smiling slightly. "Anyway, it wasn't that expensive... maybe I can use this to bake a cake, or something."

"Bake a _cake_?" Patamon looked positively horrified. "But – but how do you know this is flour?!"

"I was joking, Patamon!" Takeru laughed, tweaking the little digimon's wing. Patamon stared at him for about two seconds, then smiled rather sheepishly.

Takeru leaned against his chair and let out a contented sigh as a peaceful silence fell. He loved lazy Sundays like these. Such days were becoming a rarity, what with increasing activities in school and major examinations coming up. Patamon continued staring at the bottle for a little while more, then flew over to Takeru's table lamp and perched on it.

"I'm always afraid that you'll get electrocuted one day, doing that," Takeru remarked.

Patamon giggled. "Of course I won't, Takeru! The lamp isn't even switched on!"

"You never know – the plug's in and everything," Takeru warned.

"I'm hungry," was Patamon's rather random reply. Takeru grinned; Patamon was hungry about once every hour. "I feel like eating some chocolate cake!"

"Sure!" Takeru stood up and grabbed the bottle. "Just wait a bit and I'll go whip up some Miracle cake for you..."

"You're so silly, Takeru!" Patamon squealed, flying over to the boy and perching himself hard on Takeru's currently hat-less head. Takeru laughed and put the bottle down.

"I'm just kidding, Patamon! Come on, let's go out for a walk. We can go buy some from the bakery along the way."

-

With Patamon perched upon Takeru's head, the two left the house and wandered off to the row of shops near Takeru's apartment. It was a beautifully sunny day, not sweltering hot like the week before. It was a perfect weather for a picnic or a ball game. Takeru breathed in the summer air happily – he loved days like this.

They browsed the shops in silence for a little while. Takeru bought a nice slice of chocolate sponge cake for Patamon and the digimon munched on it happily, careful not to drop any crumbs on Takeru's nice white hat. After a while, Patamon let out a most satisfying burp, indicating that he had finished his snack.

"Takeruuuu," Patamon murmured rather sleepily, "Are you very sure you're not going to try out that Miracle Powder?"

"I don't think anything will happen, Patamon," Takeru replied.

"It wouldn't hurt to try!" Patamon exclaimed, returning a grin that a young girl had flashed at him. She continued to wave as they passed, tugging on her mother's hand in excitement. "I have this feeling that it'll work!"

"It all sounds pretty unreal to me," Takeru answered, shaking his head. "I seriously doubt there's any point in trying it. It'll probably just get our hopes up for nothing!"

"Awww, Takeru! We should never give up until we try!"

"Well, then," Takeru said, humouring his digimon, "Do you have any wish you would really like to come true?"

There was a pause. Takeru knew Patamon was deep in thought. After a while, the digimon spoke.

"I don't think so, Takeru. I'm very happy with my life now! I've got all my friends here with me, and I get to hang out with you all the time. I'm happy if you're happy!" Patamon squeezed Takeru's hat with his paws, and the boy could not help feeling touched.

"Well, I'm perfectly happy now," Takeru told Patamon, "So I guess we should just leave the Miracle Powder be for the time being."

* * *

_17th May, Monday_

"Eurghhh," Takeru moaned, leaning against the wall. "I've never felt so _miserable _in my life."

"Exaggeration, Takeru," Hikari Yagami, his best friend, replied with a roll of her eyes.

"You try failing a math quiz, having a terrible stomach upset and getting punished for underperforming in basketball practice... all in one day!" Takeru let out a dramatic sigh. "And it's only _Monday_!"

"Everyone's got their Monday Blues!" Hikari sang.

_Except you_, Takeru thought. Hikari always seemed perfectly happy and relaxed no matter how tough school got.

The two were standing outside their classroom, waiting for Daisuke. It was Daisuke and another of their classmate's turn to clean the classroom that day, and the two had agreed to wait for Daisuke to walk home together.

After about five minutes, Daisuke emerged from the classroom. The boy he was partnering followed closely behind. He waved goodbye to the trio and left.

"Phew! I hate cleaning up," Daisuke said, pretending to wipe a bead of perspiration off his head. "Good thing Ando is such an efficient worker."

"Well, let's go then," Hikari said cheerily. The three walked off, chatting away happily.

Takeru and Daisuke's "enmity" had evaporated after the final battle with BelialVamdemon, and they had become firm friends. Daisuke's crush on Hikari was also gone – it was actually not so much a crush but a sort of admiration, and he now had absolutely no qualms about Takeru and Hikari's relationship, if there even was any.

"You guys just going to go home, then?" Daisuke asked as they left the school building.

"I _seem_ to have something on today," Takeru said, scratching his head as he racked his brains. "But I can't remember! I really hope it's nothing important."

"I guess you haven't been using that planner I got you for Christmas, eh?" Hikari asked, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

Takeru laughed, blushing slightly. "Oopsie."

Hikari shook her head. "Boys!" She said, but she was smiling too. "Yeah, I think I'm just going to head home," She added, turning to Daisuke. "Onii-chan said he needs my help for some Art Project, so I think I'll go help him a bit."

Taichi's artistic talent was below zero – Takeru had first witnessed this when Taichi had attempted map-drawing years ago, when they were stuck in the Digital World. He always required Hikari's help for his Art Projects for school. Hikari seemed to have inherited all the artistic genes in the Yagami family, and was more than happy to help her brother.

Just then, Takeru's cell phone started ringing. "Excuse me, guys," he said, before fishing it out of his pocket and answering it.

"Hello?"

"Hey Takeru. Are you going to be over soon?" It was his brother, Yamato.

"Huh?" Takeru replied, momentarily confused.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten!"

"Forgotten what?"

There was an exasperated sigh on the other hand. "And you were so excited about it too! It's Dad's birthday next week, remember? And you wanted to make a present together, and we planned to start today."

"_Oh."_ Takeru _had _clean forgotten. "I'm so sorry, nii-san! I totally forgot about it. I'll be over straight away."

"Right then, I'll see you in a bit," fYamato replied before hanging up.

"I can't believe I forgot!" Takeru exclaimed as he turned to his two bemused friends. "I was supposed to meet nii-san to make Dad's birthday present!"

"Well, it's a good thing his house is pretty much on the way," Hikari said. "You've been busy lately, you couldn't help forgetting."

"Ironically enough it was my idea to give Dad a homemade present," Takeru said. "nii-san wasn't very enthusiastic about it at first, because he's been really busy with his band. But he agreed in the end."

"Homemade presents, huh? That's pretty nice of you guys," Daisuke remarked, "I usually just fork in some money and Jun will buy my Dad some atrociously colourful tie. It's the same every year."

"Well, yeah, my dad's turning forty-five, and besides, I hardly see him, so I wanted to do something extra," Takeru said with a shrug. "I don't even think he'll be free on his birthday. I guess the most I can do is give him a nice present."

Hikari gave him a comforting smile; she knew that Takeru had never gotten over his family's separation. Daisuke did not have much of an idea about the whole affair, but as he had witnessed Takeru's deepest desire during the final battle, he knew the gist of it and wisely remained silent.

They reached an intersection, and Takeru turned to the others. "I'm going this way now, it's faster. See you tomorrow!"

"See you!" Hikari and Daisuke chorused. Takeru grinned at them and jogged off.

"He's still pretty upset about his whole family thing, isn't he?" Daisuke asked as the two continued on their way home.

Hikari sighed sadly. "It's been so many years," she said, looking up at the sky. "Still, it's not something you can just get over; I can't imagine how I'd feel if I have to be separated from my father and Onii-chan."

-

Takeru rang the doorbell three times before his brother answered.

"I was in the shower," Yamato explained as he let Takeru in. His hair was dripping droplets of water all over the floor. Takeru stared at him. "Maybe you should go grab a towel or something." He said, as way of greeting.

"Yeah, I'm going to get one now," His brother replied, hurrying into his bedroom. "Make yourself at home," He called, "I don't really have any drinks – Dad's got a couple can of beers but you're not allowed to touch them. I've got water in the pitcher."

"Right," Takeru replied. He entered the rather tiny kitchen and looked around. The apartment looked just like how he remembered it from his last visit. It wasn't very big and it was pretty messy. Takeru knew better than to say anything about that, though. He knew that his father was far too busy at work to bother about it, and Yamato was already doing quite a fair share of the housework. Takeru hardly knew how to cook, yet his brother could whip up delicious meals in mere minutes!

He sat down by the old kitchen table, the one with the spindly legs that had been there for forever. Takeru couldn't help feeling a small pang of guilt when he remembered the intricately-carved, most definitely expensive set of drawers he had just helped clean out not long ago. Why was it that he had so much, but his brother had so little? How was that fair?

His gaze shifted to the sink. There were a few dirty dishes and cups piled in it. _Maybe I should help_, Takeru thought suddenly, staring at it. _It's the least I can do._

Having made his decision, Takeru stood up. He had never helped out with the household whenever he stayed over at his brother's - Yamato had always insisted that he could do it all by himself. The most he had done was help to clean out Yamato's room (just once), but he hadn't done all that much. He went over to the sink, picked up a grimy dish and began scrubbing it with a wet sponge.

"Hey, what're you doing over there?"

Takeru turned slightly. His brother stood at the doorway, looking slightly surprised. He was busy drying his hair with a bright yellow towel. His hair, usually so carefully gelled and spiked, was currently wet and unkempt. Takeru hid a grin; it was rare to see Yamato's hair in its original state.

"Washing the dishes," Takeru answered, holding up the dish he had been scrubbing. "I just thought I should help out a bit here."

His brother shook his head, looking, for some reason, a little annoyed. "You don't need to do that, Takeru," he told him as he entered the kitchen. "Dad and I can manage perfectly fine."

"I know that," Takeru replied evenly. Usually he gave in easily whenever he tried to help out and Yamato resisted. The sudden pang of guilt he had just felt, however, meant that he wasn't going to give in so easily. "But I just want to help, okay?"

Yamato sighed. "Fine, then." He went over to the counter and poured himself a glass of water.

Takeru rinsed the now clean dish and placed it on the drying rack. "So, what do you think we should do for Dad?"

Yamato was silent for a while. "He's not going to be home on that day," he replied after awhile. Takeru knew "that day" meant his father's birthday. "He has to work late. That means we'll have to give the present to him in advance."

Takeru had expected this. His father had worked on his birthday for the past five years. "Alright, then." He said. "But what should we do?"

"Buy him some clothes?" Yamato suggested, leaning against the table. "His current ones are getting terribly worn out."

Takeru frowned at the soapy water and pulled out a bright orange mug. He stared at it for a second, slightly stunned at the brightness of the shade of orange. Recovering quickly, he began rinsing the mug. "That would be nice," he replied as he washed, "but I want to have a homemade present too. It seems more sincere, don't you think? We could get him a new shirt AND give him a homemade gift."

His brother chuckled. "Takeru, Dad's birthday is next week! I don't think we'll have enough time."

_Not enough time. _Takeru couldn't help feeling another pang at these words. He hardly saw his brother and father anymore. In fact, he hardly even saw his own mother, she was so busy with her work. He usually spent weekday evenings at home alone, and sometimes he got utterly sick of it. He just wasn't the type to enjoy life as a latchkey kid.

Takeru remembered the closeness he once had with his brother when they were younger – back then it was so much easier to keep in contact, and the adventure in the Digital World had brought the two brothers closer together. Now, though, all their commitments meant that they hardly met up anymore. Yamato's band was rapidly gaining popularity, and he spent a good part of his time practising. He had also started going out with Sora recently. Takeru was starting to feel the rift between them. He didn't like it at all. Not one bit.

This had always bothered Takeru. His family's separation had always been a source of unhappiness for him, ever since he was old enough to remember. But he had always been able to hide his feelings; he was always good at storing them at the back of his mind, good at not thinking about it. Yet, now... he didn't know what was bringing all these feelings to the surface. It was getting harder to keep them under control. Perhaps it was the battle with BelialVamdemon, the fact that his greatest desire had been revealed so blatantly in front of him - it had been a shock, even to himself. That had occurred months ago, though – why was he only so upset by it now? Maybe it was the photograph that had been uncovered from the set of drawers. Or maybe it was the fact that his father never celebrated his birthday anymore, and he and Yamato hardly did anything together anymore, and Takeru seemed to be the only person bothered by that.

"Takeru? You still there?"

Takeru jumped slightly. "Um, yeah, just got lost in my thoughts for a moment." He said hurriedly.

"Well, do you have any ideas, then?"

Takeru bit his lip. "I really do think it would be good to have a homemade present."

"But I don't think we – "

"Oh yes, we do!" Takeru interrupted, setting down the mug with rather more force than he had meant to. He turned to his brother and tried to look normally pleasant. He didn't want his brother to know what he was feeling. Yamato was badly affected by the divorce too, wasn't he? But he had apparently gotten over it without anyone's help – and even despite his troubles he had always gone out of his way to keep Takeru safe, never hesitating to protect him no matter how dangerous it was for Yamato. Takeru didn't want his brother to see him as a weakling, unable to handle such problems by himself. No – Yamato didn't need to know how Takeru felt about all this.

"Come on, nii-san," Takeru continued a tad more gently, "Dad hasn't celebrated his birthday properly for the past five years! Six years, if you count this year too. Don't you think we should do something for him? I mean, I'd hate working on my birthday. We don't have to make anything really fancy or big – it's the thought that counts, right?"

Yamato looked at him for a moment or too. Then his gaze softened. "Do you have anything in mind?"

Takeru thought for a moment. "It has to be something easy, and something that won't take up a lot of time... something special..." He stared at the ceiling for a moment, his gaze following a rather long crack that ran through the white paint. "How about..." A slow smile spread across his face. "We bake Dad a birthday cake!"

Yamato looked thoughtful. "That's not a bad idea," he remarked, "Baking won't take up too much time, and Dad hasn't had a proper birthday cake for I don't know how long... I know he likes strawberry."

"That's settled, then!" Takeru exclaimed, grinning – he felt his spirits lift a little. "When shall we bake? Are we going to do it here?"

"Hmmm," Yamato said. "I'm not free tomorrow – I've got band practice. And I'm meeting Sora the next day..." He continued murmuring to himself, mentally checking his schedule. How about Thursday? Dad's working late that day, and it'd be just in time for the weekend."

Takeru nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll get the ingredients, since you're so busy."

Yamato nodded in agreement. "I'll email you the recipe once I get it. Sora's mother has lots of great cake recipes, I can get one from her."

"So you guys will have the cake over the weekend?" Takeru asked.

"Yeah, I suppose," Yamato sighed, "That's the best time for Dad, he's not working this Saturday... perhaps you could come over?" He suggested, and Takeru felt ridiculously happy at the suggestion. _What is with me today?_

"Alright!" Takeru agreed.

"That's the end of our discussion, then. It's great that we've got a plan," Yamato looked pleased. "Oh, I'll get Dad some new shirts too, when I pass by the stores. You should see what he wears now – his pockets have holes, and he keeps losing his change because of that."

"Oh," Takeru replied, feeling yet another pang as he remembered the new jeans that he had gotten just recently, and the nice black coat that his mother wore when it got cold. He brushed the feeling away hurriedly. "I'll share for the shirts, I want to share." He paused, then glanced at his brother. "What are you up to now?"

Yamato checked his watch – the clock that hung in the kitchen appeared to have stopped working. "I have band practice in half an hour. I've got to go soon – we can leave together."

A memory floated into Takeru's mind, unbidden – Takeru coming over for a visit, and the two playing computer games the entire day. Takeru knew that his brother was letting him win, but he didn't care. He was happy enough, being able to spend an entire day with his brother.

Now, visits barely lasted for an hour and were getting more and more infrequent. _He spends more time with his band and girlfriend..._

The thought was immediately replaced with yet another sharp pang of guilt – _what is it with all these sudden emotional pangs today?_ It wasn't Yamato's fault that he was so busy now. He was simply leading the normal life of a teenager. Takeru had no right to be so bitter and angry at his family just because they were busy. After all, he had his own activities too, such as basketball, and he got to hang out with the gang (Hikari, Daisuke and the rest) rather frequently – he couldn't very well fault others for having a social life. _I need to get a grip on myself, _Takeru thought as he rinsed the last dish and followed his brother into the living room. _I have no right to be this selfish._

* * *

Takeru received the email from his brother the next day. Attached to it was a recipe for a strawberry cake.

Takeru printed it out, then read through the list of ingredients. He already had a couple; in fact, all he needed to get was flour. His mother had quite a wide range of baking goods that she hardly used; however, she had recently lent a neighbour the flour, and said neighbour was notorious for not returning borrowed items... "Flour," Takeru murmured, underlining the word. "That's all I've got to get."

"Flour?" Patamon, perched next to the computer, asked. "You've got a whole bottle of it in your room! Why don't you just use that?"

Takeru blinked and looked at Patamon. "What are you talking about?"

"The Miracle Powder!" Patamon chirruped happily. "It's just been sitting on your table, unused. You might as well make use of it now!"

"You're kidding me!" Takeru laughed. "It's not even _flour_! We have no idea what it is. It's probably some sort of poisonous – "

"But, Takeru," Patamon interrupting, staring at his human partner with huge eyes, "If you're so sure the Powder is poison, why don't you just throw it away?"

Takeru opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. _Patamon's right, _he realised_. If I think the Miracle Powder is pure junk, why don't I just get rid of it?_

_Because of a part of you is hoping that it's not just junk, you dolt, _a little voice spoke up rather snidely.

_Do I? _Takeru thought, half-anxiously. How could he possibly be having any hope on a bottle of what was so apparently a fake? His friends would no doubt laugh their heads off if they knew what Takeru was thinking.

_I don't want to throw it away because I only just bought it, and it feels like such a waste to throw away something that I only so recently bought, _Takeru told himself firmly. Yes, that was the real reason, he decided.

"Well, whatever it is, it might not be flour, so we shouldn't risk it," Takeru said firmly.

"If you want a miracle, you've got to take risks, Takeru," Patamon replied.

Takeru stared at the computer screen for a while, but he wasn't really looking at it. Was Patamon right? Should he try it out? _Could he_? Potentially ruin his father's birthday cake just because he believed some childish hoax about something as obviously fake as "Miracle Powder"?

Takeru stood up. Maybe it was time he did something about this. "I'm going to find out what this 'Miracle Powder' is." He said.

Patamon flew up, looking surprised. "How are you going to do that? I thought you're meeting your friends for a late night basketball game, anyway?"

"I've got an hour or two to spare," Takeru said. He turned to Patamon and grinned. "Fancy a trip to the Baking Supplies Shop?"

"Of course!" Patamon squealed happily as he settled down on Takeru's head.

-

"You want me to tell you if this is flour?" The grumpy old man looked at Takeru suspiciously as he peered at the glass bottle.

Takeru nodded. "Yeah. Er, we must have forgotten to label when we filled the jars, and now I can't remember..." He scratched his head, slightly embarrassed by the lie. "Could you please help us, Mister?"

The old man let out an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I could," he muttered, unscrewing the jar lid. "I've worked here for _years_; I can differentiate plain flour from cake flour."

He sniffed at the powder, scooped up a tiny bit with his hands, and shook the bottle a bit. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he handed it back to Takeru.

"It's flour, my boy. Good old plain flour."

"Oh, thanks!" Takeru replied, taking the bottle back from the old man. He bowed slightly, then left the cluttered shop.

"See? I _knew _that Mike was a fake," Takeru told Patamon knowingly. "He sold us flour!"

"Well, at least you can use it for your cake," Patamon replied, not at all deterred. "Furthermore, who says it's normal flour? It could be MIRACLE FLOUR! It could be the most special flour in the Universe and your Dad will have the bestest birthday cake _ever_!"

"Come off it, Patamon," Takeru replied, even though he could not help laughing. His Digimon was ever so innocent, but that was what made him so endearing. Patamon was the one thing in Takeru's life that had remained constant. "Well, at least I don't need to spend any extra money on flour!"

**TBC**

**I'm quite happy with this chapter! I hope you guys will be happy with it too, that's more important than my own opinion. About one or two chapters more and I'll finish up this story. I hope you guys are enjoying it so far!**


	3. Pat A Cake, Pat A Cake, Baker's Men

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Hi everyone! I hope all of you had a Merry Christmas. I'm in a writing mood now so here's chapter three! But first, review replies:

**mistress_editor: **Hey! The Yamato-Sora thing weirded me out at first too; I was always more of a Taiora fan, but it seems that Sorato is the canon ship, so I decided to go with that. (If you've ever heard the audio clip, Yamato was declaring his love for Sora in it.) And about the formal speech thing, I didn't think I made them THAT polite; and besides, this is Japan, where people are gfenerally polite to one another. I use "shall" in my speech sometimes when asking questions, it seems fine to me.

I've always got the impression that Yamato's side was the less well-off onef. I was judging based on their houses; Yamato's was smaller, messy, kind of cramped; Takeru's was spacious, modern and clean, and he had a pretty big bed. Of course, this could be due to reasons other than financial, but I'm going to be sticking to this, because it flows with the story and adds to Takeru's emotions about the divorce.

Lastly, about episodes: I grew up watching the Mandarin-dubbed episodes, they were far more accurate than the American ones (the Chinese versions of their names are pretty funny though!). I only recently discovered some fan-subbing groups that sub episodes of Digimon. They're not completed yet, but the ones they've subbed so far are available for download. If you could give me your email address (you could PM me or something, if you have a account), I'll send you the URLs of the websites!

**Blazing Chaos: **Thanks for the reviews! Takeru's my favourite character and I'm glad you think that I'm writing him well.

**Aster Selene: **Um, milk? What milk? I don't think I mentioned anything about milk... your review has got me a little confused, ha. But I'm glad that you enjoyed the story! And yes, Takeru's probably going to be pretty screwed.

Also thanks to **PrincessJaded, Lord Pata, Light-of-Hope-07 **and **Xanpluto **for reviewing! Eight new reviews made me happy! Alright, on with the chapter now.

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Wish In A Bottle: A Digimon Fanfiction  
Chapter Three

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_20th May, Thursday_

Takeru made sure that he wouldn't forget meeting with Yamato (again) by making use of the Calendar function on his hand phone. Hikari had once again mentioned the planner, but he didn't think he would even remember to bring it out with him. However, as the day neared he found that it wasn't difficult for him at all to remember meeting his brother. He was getting pretty excited about baking his father's birthday cake.

On Thursday morning he woke up earlier than usual – he wanted to have sufficient time to pack the baking ingredients. He headed to the kitchen and saw that his mother was already up. She was sitting by the dining table, reading the morning papers and sipping a cup of steaming hot coffee.

"Good Morning, Mum," Takeru yawned.

"Good Morning, Takeru!" Natsuko looked surprised to see him; Takeru usually didn't wake up for another half an hour, and sometimes she even needed to wake him up when he slept past his alarm. "Why are you up so early today?"

"I -" Takeru started, then realised that he never did mention anything about his father's birthday surprise to his mother. He couldn't help but wonder how she would react to it. He paused, then continued hesitantly, "I'm meeting Yamato later to bake a birthday cake for Dad, and I want to pack the ingredients now."

"Birthday cake?" For a minute, Natsuko looked stunned. "Oh, so it's..." Takeru saw her gaze drift over to their wall calendar.

"Yeah... it's the coming Monday," Takeru said quietly. "We're celebrating on Saturday," The next few words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself – "Do you want to come?"

Natsuko looked slightly startled at this, and Takeru could have kicked himself. _Are you retarded, or what? How awkward can it be, celebrating your ex-husband's birthday! _His mother would never go, he was sure of it.

"Do you want me to come?" Takeru's head snapped up in surprise. His expression was mirrored on his mother's face – she looked as though she had blurted out those words without thinking, too.

"I..." Takeru said, uncertain. Part of him _did _want his mother to go, but he knew that things would be terribly awkward, then. Would his nii-san get angry at him for inviting their mother over? How would his father react? Would the birthday celebration be ruined?

"It's been a long time," Natsuko murmured, her gaze fixed on the calendar. "He always used to forget his birthdays; I would surprise him with a cake every year. Strawberry, his favourite."

Takeru stared at her, understanding dawning on him. _Strawberry, his favourite. _The way he and Yamato were planning to surprise their father... was exactly the same as how Natsuko used to celebrate with him, when they were still together. "It would be nice if you come," he said finally. "I'm sure nii-san and dad will like it."

He wasn't sure if that was a lie. Natsuko smiled a little sadly.

"No, Takeru, it's alright." Their eyes met, and she patted his hand gently. "I think I've to work on that day, anyway. You go on ahead and enjoy yourself."

Takeru nodded. His mother returned to her newspaper, and he turned to the cabinet where the baking supplies were kept. He concentrated hard on retrieving the correct ingredients, checking each one off his piece of paper as he placed it in a large paper bag. Finally, he put in the bottle of Miracle Powder, or, to be precise, all-purpose flour.

He hadn't expected his mother's response; he had expected an outright rejection to his invitation. It made him wonder...

Did she actually want to go, after all?

* * *

Takeru entered his classroom and was happy to see that he wasn't late – he had thought he would be, but he had made it with five minutes to spare!

"Wow," Hikari said, staring at the paper bag that Takeru was holding. "That looks _heavy_. Do you want me to help you carry it later?"

"No, it's okay," Takeru answered, brushing hair from his eyes as he sat down on his seat, next to Hikari. "It's not that heavy."

"So, today's the day, huh?" Daisuke asked, examining the bag's content. He now sat right in front of the two, and often turned around to talk to them in between lessons.

"Yep. Baking day," Takeru said with a nod. "I hope the cake comes out alright."

"I'm sure it'll be fine!" Hikari said encouragingly. "Yamato is an excellent cook, it's bound to come out great."

"Yeah, his cheese omelette is to die for-" Daisuke began eagerly, but was sadly interrupted by their teacher, who had entered the classroom at that moment. "I would give anything to eat it again," he finished in a whisper.

Takeru smirked slightly. The only time Daisuke had ever tried Yamato's legendary omelette was during the Chosen Children's last get-together, and he had raved about it ever since. "I've eaten it at least five times," He whispered back. Hikari rolled her eyes, but she was smiling slightly.

"Idiot!" Daisuke whispered back. Mrs. Akiyo shot them a stern look, and that was the end of their conversation.

* * *

_Ding Dong!_

Takeru sighed as he pressed the doorbell for what felt like the thousandth time. Where _was _Yamato? Takeru knew that High School students were let out earlier than Elementary School students, so shouldn't Yamato be home by now? Takeru had made a little detour to the fruit stall for fresh strawberries before heading to Yamato's house, so he had taken quite a while. But apparently Yamato was even later than he was!

After a few more rings, it was clear that Yamato was not at home. Giving up, Takeru sat down on the small staircase that led up to the front door. His schoolbag and the bag of baking supplies sat next to him rather forlornly.

He checked his watch. He had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes.

The seconds ticked away steadily. Takeru scowled.

"_Oh, where are yoouuuu," _He sang. The corridor was deserted, and Takeru was so bored, he was going out of his mind. Takeru did weird things when he was bored - it was a general source of amusement for his friends. _"I've been waiting for sooo long..."_

"I'm here, little brother!"

Takeru looked up in mid-song. Yamato was strolling up, looking a little dishevelled. His uniform was, as usual, untucked and a little creased, and he was striding along in the cool, confident way that girls always swooned over. Sometimes, Takeru secretly envied his brother's "cool-ness", but he would never admit it.

"What happened to you?" Takeru queried as he stood up. "Why are you so late?"

"Had to settle a sudden dispute between two of my band members; they were arguing over this new song we're in the midst of producing," Yamato sighed impatiently as he searched for his keys. "Those idiots." He unlocked the door. "I'll carry that," he said, picking up the bag of baking supplies and heading into the house.

Takeru followed behind, shutting the door behind him. The two headed into the kitchen. Yamato had already stuck his head into the fridge, and now emerged with two cans of soda. He handed one to Takeru, who took it gratefully. All that waiting had made him thirsty.

"You must have been pretty bored to start singing like that," Yamato said, smirking slightly. "I could hear you all the way from the elevator."

Takeru laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I was bored." He retorted. "I was waiting for nearly half an hour!"

"So sorry," chuckled Yamato. "My band's been really busy recently, that's why. We have meetings nearly every day."

_Yeah, well. _Takeru thought. "So, shall we get started?" He asked.

"Oh, sure," Yamato answered breezily. He began taking the different ingredients out of the bag. "Sugar, vanilla essence, egg – oh, I have eggs here actually, you didn't have to bring them – and this is flour?" He asked as he pulled out the glass bottle.

"Yeah," Takeru said, nodding. Yamato put it down on the table and continued taking out the ingredients.

Takeru, meanwhile, pulled the rather crumpled recipe out of his bag and stuck it on the refrigerator. He examined the old assortment of magnets stuck on the fridge - they were used to hold up pieces of post-its. Some of the writing was getting pretty faded. Takeru read a few of them: "Dad – there's macaroni in the oven, heat it up for dinner", "Yamato – won't be coming home for dinner today, take care" and so on. Takeru grinned at one of them: "Yamato – if you don't want to hurt those vocal cords of yours, drink more water, damn it! I heard you coughing like a hound when you came home last night. Why were you out so late, anyway?"

"Coughing like a hound?" Takeru chuckled.

"Dad and his phrases," Yamato replied, shaking his head slightly.

"What were you doing out late that day?" Takeru asked.

"Went out with Sora," Yamato said, smiling a little.

"Ooh." Takeru said. Turning his attention back to the recipe, he read the first line of instructions. "Okay, first thing we've got to do is: preheat the oven to 190 degrees Celsius. I can do this. Erm..."

Yamato laughed. "You don't know how to preheat an oven?"

"Not really," Takeru said, turning red. Frankly, Takeru was pretty much useless in a kitchen. He could wash dishes, yes, but when it came to cooking... the best he could do was boil an egg. And sometimes, he undercooked them.

"Let me show you, little bro," Yamato declared grandly, striding over to the oven. Takeru grinned; he liked it when his brother was in a good mood. There was some turning of dials and then the oven lit up. A soft whirring sound emitted from it, indicating that it was switched on. Takeru tried not to look too amazed.

"What's next?" Yamato asked. He was now retrieving a cake tin out from a cupboard. Takeru turned back to the recipe.

"Cream the butter, sugar and crushed strawberries," Takeru read. "Then we have to beat in the eggs, one at a time. Hmmm." He turned to Yamato. "How do we – eh, what are you doing?"

"I'm greasing the cake tin," Yamato replied, spreading a thin layer of oil over the metal tin he was holding. "So the cake won't get stuck to the tin later."

"Wow," Takeru was deeply impressed. "You sound like an experienced baker!"

Yamato looked amused – but then, he had been wearing an amused expression ever since the preheating-oven incident. "You need to step into the kitchen more, Takeru. Let's crush the strawberries. You brought them, right?"

The next fifteen minute was spent crushing strawberries in a large bowl, using wooden spoons. Yamato hadn't been able to resist eating one. And then two. It was a good thing Takeru had bought extra strawberries.

They took turns mixing the batter, and cracked in an egg each. Takeru was glad that at least, he hadn't messed that up. In fact, he loved cracking eggs. It was one of the few culinary skills his mother had imparted to him, and it gave him a satisfying feeling, cracking the egg apart and pouring out its eggy contents.

"This is pretty fun. I should learn to bake more often," Takeru said happily as he measured out the correct amount of Miracle Powder – I mean flour – into another bowl. "Isn't it amazing that all these funny white powder and eggs can turn into a delicious cake?"

Yamato smiled affectionately at his brother. "Well, next time I'll lend you my chocolate chip cookies recipe. It's a lady-killer, better than jewellery! You'll have Hikari eating out of your hands, begging for more."

Takeru turned red again. "Who said anything about Hikari?" He grabbed the small bottle of baking powder and spooned out a tiny bit.

"Secretive, aren't you?" Yamato grinned slightly. He moved the bottle of flour aside and picked up the milk carton. "By the way, how come you guys put the flour in this nice container, while everything else is still in its original packaging?"

"Eh," Takeru said, caught off guard. _What's there to be nervous about? The guy at the baking shop said it's just flour! _"Mum accidentally tore the packaging so we had to transfer the flour to a container," He lied.

"I see." Yamato replied. Takeru glanced at him – he was pouring out the milk into a cup, and had apparently believed Takeru's lie. _Who says I can't lie! _He thought triumphantly. _But... there wasn't a need to lie, was there? Why did I do that?_

Deep inside he knew that he was still a little worried. You couldn't be one hundred percent sure that the Miracle Powder was flour just because some guy said so. However, the old man had been working at the baking shop for ages, and Takeru had heard his neighbours praise the man's extraordinary baking skills. _There shouldn't be a problem. I'm just overanalyzing things. I should seriously stop doing that._

"Stop! Takeru!" Yamato's urgent voice rang out. "You only need _one _teaspoon of vanilla extract! Just one!"

"Oh, oops!" Takeru had been so lost in thought that he hadn't been concentrating on his task. He smiled sheepishly at his brother. "Did I do any damage?"

"Not that bad. Just pour the excess into the sink." Yamato shook his head. "I guess my comment about Hikari really got you thinking, huh?"

"Oh, ha ha." Takeru snapped as he walked over to the sink. Well, at least Yamato suspected nothing.

-

Half an hour later, the table was cleared, the dishes were cleaned, and the cake was rising happily in the oven. The two brothers leaned against their chairs, exhausted.

Yamato checked his watch. "It's seven o'clock. Are you hungry? We didn't have lunch!"

Takeru nodded. "I'm starving." Then he pointed at the clock that hung on the wall. "Maybe you should get new batteries for that."

"Dad and I keep forgetting," Yamato replied with a shrug. "Anyway, I've always got my watch on, so it hardly matters. What do you want for dinner?"

"Something nice, normal and un-spicy, thank you." Takeru said at once, remembering the horrific meal his brother had prepared for him the last time he had stayed over.

Yamato laughed. "I'm too tired to cook, so I'm just going to order pizza. Any preferences?"

Takeru shook his head, and Yamato left the room.

Gazing around the kitchen and breathing in the delicious aroma of strawberry cake, Takeru felt extremely contented and relaxed. He had no idea that baking was so much fun. Especially when you were baking with someone you were close to, for somebody you cared for. _This is the perfect birthday surprise, _Takeru thought happily. Also, Yamato had been in a great mood today, helping out Takeru when he got stuck at certain steps and cracking lame jokes – Takeru didn't even mind the teasing about Hikari. He had seen Jun and Daisuke tease each other, as well as Taichi and Hikari. Normal siblings teased each other all the time. Takeru was glad that in this aspect, they were pretty "normal".

Yamato returned to the kitchen. "I ordered Seafood Pizza." He said, and Takeru nodded in approval.

"You look happy," Yamato commented as he sat back down on his seat. "In a good mood today?"

Takeru couldn't help beaming. "I just thought today was pretty fun. I'm sure Dad's going to love his present! Don't you think so?"

Yamato smiled slightly. "Of course he will; _we_ made the cake, after all." He looked thoughtful. "You know, Dad did tell me that he loves strawberry cake, but I don't really remember him ever eating it."

Their mother's words from earlier that morning floated back into Takeru's mind. "Oh... that." He said, rather hesitantly. "Actually, maybe I know why."

"Yeah?"

Takeru stared at his hands. "Mum told me something this morning," he said slowly. "She said that last time when they were still, um, together, she'd bake his favourite strawberry cake for his birthday every year." He looked up at his brother. "Maybe that's why he doesn't really eat them anymore?"

"Oh," Yamato said quietly. There was a short silence, then he added, "You know... I do remember Mum baking a strawberry cake, once. I think I was four, or five. You were too young; I don't think you can remember."

"It's really too bad," Takeru murmured.

Yamato glanced at him, his gaze rather piercing. "What's too bad?"

_The divorce, of course! _But he didn't know what Yamato would say if he really said that. He hadn't dared to tell Yamato what his deepest desire had been when he had encountered BelialVamdemon; he didn't want his brother to worry. "That Dad hasn't gotten a chance to eat his favourite cake for so long." Takeru said quickly.

Yamato nodded, but he didn't look like he thought Takeru was telling the truth. He opened his mouth to say something. Takeru had a faint idea of what he was going to say, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it. "You know-" Yamato began.

_Ding-Dong!_

"Pizza's here! That's a pretty fast delivery," Takeru said at once, jumping up. "I'll go get it, okay?"

Yamato looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. The money's on the shoe cabinet."

Takeru hurried out of the kitchen. He knew that Yamato wouldn't pursue the subject anymore, at least not for now. His brother was a pretty perceptive person, and Takeru knew that Yamato could probably tell that he was upset about the divorce. But... Takeru just wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to anybody about it.

* * *

The pizza was delicious, and went well with the cans of ice-cream soda from Yamato's fridge. It appeared that other than the essentials, the Ishidas' fridge was stocked full of nothing else but soft drinks. The cake had finished baking, and was now sitting on a cooling rack. It smelt heavenly.

"I think you had better bring that home," Yamato said, indicating the cake. "I don't know how I'm going to hide it here. Dad's nose is bound to find it, even if he doesn't."

Takeru grinned at that. "Okay. I'll just bring it over here on Saturday, right?"

Yamato nodded. "Yup! Dad's just expecting a simple meal. He'll be really surprised."

Takeru smiled at the cake. "I can't wait to taste it!"

"Well, you're not to touch it until Saturday!" Yamato warned teasingly.

"I _know _that, nii-san!" Takeru laughed. "I'm not a little kid; I can control myself!"

Yamato took a gigantic sip of his soda in response. Takeru looked delightedly at the cake for a while longer, then turned to Yamato. He meant to ask Yamato what kind of birthday meal his father was expecting, but the words that came out of his mouth was entirely different.

"I asked Mum if she wanted to come, you know."

Yamato choked on his drink. Takeru whacked him on the back anxiously as he coughed violently, mentally berating himself for being such an awful, gigantic idiot. He hadn't meant to say that at all. All he wanted to know was what the meal was supposed to be! What was _wrong _with him?

"Are you okay?" He asked uncertainly.

"Fine, fine," Yamato shook his head. He glanced at Takeru. "So. What did she say?"

"She asked... she asked if I wanted her to go." Takeru replied uncomfortably. "But in the end, she said she wouldn't be free." Yamato was still looking at him, and Takeru shifted slightly in his seat. "Look, this is stupid. Forget I said anything, okay?"

Yamato sighed. "This isn't stupid at all, Takeru. There's nothing wrong with you wanting her to come. It's just that it would probably be a little awkward for Dad-"

"I know!" Takeru interrupted quickly. Of course he knew that! He tried to thing of something else to talk about, _anything _to change the subject, and his gaze fell on the wall clock. "Wow, it's nearly ten! I had better get going, before Dad comes back and sees the cake."

Yamato's expression was half-worried, but weirdly enough, half-amused as well. "Takeru, that clock is spoilt."

"_Oh."_ Takeru laughed embarrassedly. _Argh!_ "What's the time now, then?"

"Eight-forty."

"That's not too early either!" Takeru said defensively. "Dad'll be back anytime, right?"

"He'll probably be back after ten," Yamato answered. "But I guess you had better go; tomorrow's a schoolday." He got up from his seat. "I'll get you something to put the cake in."

"Do you think it'd be okay if I decorated it, or something?" Takeru asked, glancing at the rather plain-looking cake. "I think mum has some leftover cake icing."

"Sure you can," Yamato nodded, pulling a large container out of a cabinet. "Why don't you write 'You're forty-five, and you're too old to smoke'? I can't stand it when Dad smokes."

"Maybe I will," Takeru said, smiling slightly. "But I think a 'Happy 45th' will fit in better with the occasion."

Yamato chuckled. "That'd be good, too," he said as he carefully placed the cake into the container. "Oh," he added, looking up, "I'll be getting the shirts for Dad tomorrow, so if you want to see how they're like you can come earlier on Saturday. Dad says he has to settle some work stuff on Saturday morning, but he'll be back to celebrate from the afternoon onward."

"Sure thing," Takeru answered. "I'll come around nine, is that fine?"

"Of course."

Yamato opened the front door. "I'll walk you downstairs."

Takeru grinned at him. "Just like old times!"

Yamato smiled back. "Yes," he replied, closing the door behind them. "Just like old times."

**TBC**

**Next chapter: Birthday Surprises!**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think. It's indefinite how many chapters I'm going to have (I'm not too sure about my previous estimation anymore) but there shouldn't be too many left! **


	4. Birthday Surprises

**Chapter four, oh yay! Update's a bit later than my "once a week" plan, but I got busy (and lazy). Heh.**

**Review replies:**

**guavawol****f: **Hey! I love cracking eggs too! And as a kid, I would always try to get my Dad to quit smoking. So I guess all these little memories and quirks of mine got added into this story. I'm glad you liked it!

**HLTY: **I don't really understand your review, sorry... but anyhow, I'm glad that you're enjoying my story! Is the flour REALLY miracle powder, though? ;)

**Light-of-Hope-07: **There we have it, the cake-eating chapter! But don't be so sure that the "Miracle Powder" will work. After all, it's just flour, isn't it? Heh.

**Aster Selene: **Ooooh! Okay, I'll admift it – I totally forgot about the milk bit from chapter one! Terrible, I know. But never mind, I shall fix it up in this chapter! Anyway, Takeru doesn't really believe the Powder is "Miracle Powder" (he has that wild hope at the back of his mind, but common sense tells him otherwise) – he's leaning more towards what the old man said, that it's just flour. After all, he always had the notion that Mike's a big scammer from the start. So that's why he's going ahead to use it for the cake, even though Mike told him you're not allowed to drink milk with it.

Anyway, thanks for pointing it out!

Also thanks to **PrincessJaded **and **Blazing Chaos**... I love reviews!

* * *

_21__st__ May, Friday_

The dismissal bell rang at one-thirty p.m. sharp and the entire class filed out at once. Takeru's last class on Friday was Mathematics – a real bore, and a real sleep inducer if the weather was extra warm. Daisuke, Hikari and Takeru left the classroom together, stretching and yawning.

"That was a _terrible_ lesson," Hikari sighed, lowering her voice as their teacher walked past them briskly. "I don't think I understood any of that!"

"At least it's Friday!" Daisuke beamed. It was impossible to upset him on a Friday, what with the Wondrous Weekend just around the corner. "No school for the next two days!"

Takeru grinned at Daisuke's infectious enthusiasm – he always said the same thing on Fridays, without fail. "I'm not going to be going the same way as you guys today," he told the other two. "I'm going to go to the mall for a bit."

"What for?" Hikari asked.

"I want to get my Dad a birthday card," Takeru explained. "Tomorrow's the celebration, and what's a birthday without a card?"

"As long as there's a big delicious cake, it's good enough for me," Daisuke sniffed. "Who needs some fancy store-bought card?"

"We'll keep that in mind when your birthday comes!" Hikari teased. Daisuke stuck out his tongue at her childishly.

They left the school building. Takeru bid his two friends goodbye as they went their separate ways. He had texted Yamato earlier on, telling him that he was going to get a birthday card, and Yamato had told him to go ahead. Takeru rarely bought birthday cards. Usually when one of the Chosen Children's birthdays came around, the whole gang would pitch in to buy one of those huge birthday cards. Most of the time, the girls did the choosing; Takeru had never helped in choosing the card before – he had only helped in choosing the gift itself. He remembered the gigantic bear-shaped card he had received for his last birthday and smiled to himself. It was cute, but this sort of things was definitely not suitable for his father. He could just imagine his father's shocked response: _"But where would I put this?"_

He soon reached the shopping mall. The large, multi-storey building seemed to glisten in the sun, giving it a sparkly, almost glittery appearance. That was the effect of having almost the entire mall built in glass. Takeru entered the building, smiling in relief as the coolness of the air-conditioner washed over him. The heat outside had been most difficult to endure. Even with his hat on, Takeru could still feel the burning heat on his head.

He wandered around the first storey. The first level consisted mainly of restaurants and eateries, and Takeru ended up succumbing to the tempation of a delicious-looking piece of red bean bun. Munching on it happily, he headed to the escalator.

"Hello, my dear child."

The voice was so close to Takeru's ear that he jumped slightly. Turning around, he saw an extremely familiar-looking man standing behind him, eyes twinkling merrily behind thick glasses. It was Mike!

"Hi," Takeru replied, a little shortly. Yes, he had pitied Mike and everything, but he didn't feel like getting too chatty with a swindler.

"How has the Miracle Powder been doing?" Mike smiled at him. "Have you tried it out yet?"

"Yeah, I have," Takeru said casually. He stepped onto the escalator, and Mike, annoyingly enough, followed him. "I brought it to the baking shop, and the guy there told me it's really flour!"

Mike's eyes widened, and he stared at Takeru for a few seconds. Then, recovering himself, he said composedly, "Then I am afraid he's wrong. That Powder _is _Miracle Powder, my boy. Trust me – I'm the vendor, after all."

Mike's short moment of discomfit had been enough to convince Takeru that he was no doubt a cheat. "Well, I used the Powder to bake a cake," Takeru told Mike, "so we'll find out soon enough if it really is Miracle Powder! If it works, I'll be sure to tell you." He beamed at Mike.

Mike stared at him for a minute, face blank. "You used it in a cake?"

Takeru nodded.

"Did you use milk?"

"Of course I did!" Takeru laughed. "I baked a cake, for goodness' sake! Of course I had to use milk!"

Mike glared at Takeru. "This is serious, boy! Don't you remember what I told you?! You must not mix this Powder with milk! Never, or it will lose its effect! It will no longer create miracles!"

"But I have already done it," Takeru answered, staring wide-eyed at Mike. "What's going to happen now?"

"Well..." Mike hesitated for a moment, apparently deep in thought. "You should be thankful that there'll be no harmful effects. The Powder will just act like ordinary flour. However, all its magical effects are gone."

Takeru resisted the urge to let out an incredulous laugh. _What an excuse, huh? _He thought scathingly. _This whole "milk" thing is just Mike's way of pretending that that bottle of ordinary flour is actually Miracle Powder! How gullible does he think I am?_

"Well, it's alright, really," Takeru told Mike. "I just needed a cake, not a miracle, and the Powder did the job nicely. The cake turned out wonderful, too."

Mike gazed at him for a moment. "You will never get to see its true effects, though," he murmured. "Well..." Suddenly sounding much more business-like, he straightened up and gave Takeru his most sincere look. "It would be most unfortunate if you never got to experience the joys of using the Miracle Powder! Fortunately for you, I still have some of my stock available. Would you like to purchase another bottle? I –"

"Oh, no thanks," Takeru answered quickly, trying to hide his annoyance. The nerve of this guy to try and swindle him a _second _time! Had he no shame? "I'm in a rush right now," Takeru told him.

Mike seemed to get the hint. "I'm sure we'll meet again soon, my dear child," he said sorrowfully. "You know where my stall is – fate will bring you there. Well, I shall disturb you no further. Goodbye."

He bowed rather dramatically, turned with a swish of his cloak, and vanished into the crowd.

Takeru shook his head as he headed toward a gift shop. He couldn't stand people like Mike – taking advantage of a person's hopes and dreams all because he wanted to make some quick money. _People like that shouldn't exist,_ he thought with a sudden rush of fierceness. Deep inside he knew that he had secretly wondered, rather hopefully, if the Miracle Powder really _was _real, and now he felt extra foolish for it. Yes, he hadn't allowed himself to be fooled, but if he had been any more gullible, he probably would have had. And then what would he have used it for? An image of the photograph that had been found in the chest of drawers floated into his mind, and he blocked it out quickly. _Well, at least I didn't fall for the trick, and I even put the flour to good use_, Takeru told himself. _That's what matters._

* * *

_22__nd__ May, Saturday_

Takeru pressed hard on the doorbell for what seemed to be the hundredth time that week.

_Ding Dong!_

Yamato answered the door almost immediately. Takeru beamed up at him, a large paper bag in his hands.

"I'm glad I don't have to sit outside for twenty minutes this time round!" He said cheerfully as Yamato stepped back to let him in.

Yamato rolled his eyes. "Someone sure can bear a grudge, huh?" He peered into the paper bag, which Takeru had just placed on the kitchen table. "What's in there?"

"The cake, and I got the card as well." Takeru replied, pulling the card out. It was a light shade of blue, with a simple but elegant picture of a birthday cake on the front. On the top were silver words, written in cursive: _Happy 45__th__._

"Do you want to write something in it?" Takeru asked his brother, holding out the card.

"Oh, sure," Yamato answered cheerily. He went over to the refrigerator and felt around the top of it, Takeru watching on in bemusement. He soon returned to the table with a dust-covered pen.

"We usually keep some stationery there, in case we need to note down something urgent," Yamato explained.

"Ah," Takeru grinned. His brother shook off the dust and bent over the card. "Since you probably didn't write it on the cake, I'll write it on the card!" He then scrawled a large _"DEAR DAD, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! YOU'RE 45 NOW AND TOO OLD TO SMOKE. LOVE, YAMATO."_

Takeru blinked at the short (but not so sweet) message.

"I say it to him every year, so why break the tradition?" Yamato said, smirking slightly. "What did you write?"

Takeru's note was right below Yamato's – _"DEAR DAD, HAPPY 45__TH__ BIRTHDAY! I HOPE YOU LIKE THE CAKE. WE MADE IT ALL BY OURSELVES! TAKE CARE AND DON'T STRESS TOO MUCH OVER WORK. BIRTHDAYS SHOULD NEVER BE MISSED! LOVE, TAKERU."_

"Perfect," Yamato said, smiling slightly. He picked up the light blue envelope that had came along with the card and put the card inside it.

"I've got the shirts in my room," Yamato told Takeru as he straightened up. "I'll go get them while you take out the cake, alright?"

Takeru nodded. As his brother left the room, he reached into the bag and carefully took out the large container Yamato had given him to store the cake earlier.

He had used some his mother's butter and chocolate icing. He had tasted a bit of them at first and found them yummy – but then, he had always been a fan of all things creamy. With a bit of guidance from his mother, who taught him how to squeeze out the icing from the tube, he had managed to form the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD on the cake, alternating the alphabets in brown and yellow.

It looked pretty good, for a first-time attempt. Takeru looked at the cake proudly, then suddenly remembered the candles. He reached into the box again and pulled out a small plastic bag – in it were four large candles and five tiny ones.

He was just taking the candles out of their packaging when Yamato returned, holding a white plastic bag.

"Nice!" Yamato said approvingly upon seeing the cake. "Who knew brown and yellow could go so well together?"

"I'd have thought not, the last time I saw you wearing that brown cap," Takeru joked, thinking back to the rather hilarious incident about two years ago.

"For the last time, my hair is _blonde_, not _yellow_!" Yamato scowled. "Anyway," he added, "Here are the shirts. I bought two – here you go." He tossed the bag over to Takeru.

Takeru caught it deftly and pulled out its contents. The first shirt was a short-sleeved, buttoned-up one, dark and light blue vertical lines over a white background. The second shirt was a green-coloured polo tee.

"They're not bad!" Takeru said cheerfully. He knew nothing much about clothes, but these did look pretty good. Besides, Yamato was quite trendy – he knew that Taichi and Daisuke had both gone to him for clothing advice on how to impress girls (and you thought that was something only girls did!) – so he trusted his brother's taste.

"Of course they're good," Yamato grinned. Takeru folded the clothes rather clumsily and put them back into the bag.

Yamato checked his watch. "Dad will probably be beck in forty minutes. You'll light the candles and hide in the kitchen while I lead him in here for the surprise, okay? He won't be expecting you."

Takeru nodded in agreement. "So, what do we do now?"

"I'll just heat up our lunch first," Yamato said, remembering suddenly. He crossed over to the refrigerator and took out a dish of chicken casserole. "Dad's favourite!"

"I never knew Dad like chicken casserole!" Takeru said in surprise.

Yamato glanced over at him. "You don't? He requests it for dinner almost every week," he chuckled as he placed the dish in the oven. "Drives me crazy sometimes."

_I hardly know anything about my father, really, _Takeru thought. Until today, he hadn't even known his father's favourite cake, or favourite dish! In fact, did he even know his _mother's_? An unexplainable flash of panic surged through him as he tried to remember – well, she was rather partial to pork chops, so that was probably it. Oh, yes, she loved prawns, too. Takeru sighed in relief, then felt extremely silly.

_It's good that I'm starting to know more things about dad, then, _Takeru told himself. _I hardly see him at all, only a couple of times a year – it's no surprise that I don't know as much about him as nii-san does._

* * *

The casserole sat proudly on the table, faint swirls of smoke rising from it, and next to it was the "masterpiece", as Takeru called it – the strawberry cake, unlit candles already atop it. Half an hour had passed, and the two brothers were engaged in a deep, meaningful conversation – that is, arguing over which video game was the best.

The sound of the key turning in the lock made them both jump. They stared at each other, and Takeru could see that Yamato was trying not to smile. It wasn't like them to be so childish and silly, really.

"Light the candles now," Yamato whispered before leaving the room hurriedly. Takeru grabbed the lighter that was lying next to the cake (taken from his father's study desk) and quickly lit all the candles. He could hear their voices nearing.

"How was work today, Dad?"

"Same old thing," His father's familiar, gruff voice answered. "I received a few birthday cards, though; I'm surprised they actually remembered." A slight pause. "Hey, do I smell chicken casserole? And is that...?"

"Your favourite dish, just for your birthday!" Yamato replied.

The two appeared at the kitchen doorway, and Takeru leapt up at once.

"Hi Dad!" He grinned. "Happy birthday!"

Hiroaki Ishida looked absolutely astonished for a moment at the sight of his youngest son. Then, his face broke into a wide smile.

"Thanks, son," he said, looking slightly touched. "It's been quite awhile, hasn't it?"

"We got you this," Yamato said, picking up the bag with the shirts. "I figured it's time that you got some new clothes."

Hiroaki chuckled as he took the bag from Yamato. "Are you saying that my clothes are too old, son?"

"The one you're wearing right now has a hole in its pocket," Yamato pointed out. Hiroaki looked down in surprise.

"I never did notice it!" He said.

Yamato rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. Takeru picked up the birthday card and held it out to his father.

"What's that?" Hiroaki blinked.

"A birthday card, Dad!" Yamato exclaimed. "Seriously, I think I should start giving you cards every week now if you can't even recognize that!"

Hiroaki beamed at both of them as he took the card – Takeru couldn't remember the last time he had seen his father so happy. As their father made his way over to the kitchen table Yamato turned and grinned at Takeru, and he knew that his brother felt the same way.

"You guys got a cake for me, too?" Hiroaki turned to the pair. "It has been ages since I've had a proper birthday cake. Years, in fact..."

"It's your favourite – strawberry," Takeru told him. "And the candles are melting! Make a wish and blow them out."

Hiroaki smiled, evidently unused to this type of birthday celebration. He closed his eyes hesitantly and silently made his wish, before opening them and blowing out the candles.

"Happy birthday!" Yamato and Takeru said, clapping.

"What did you wish for?" Yamato asked.

Hiroaki laughed. "What's that saying? Oh – if you say out your wish, it won't come true. I'm keeping it to myself."

Takeru picked up the knife which Yamato had laid out earlier. "The birthday boy – er, man, has to cut the cake!"

Hiroaki took the knife, still smiling. He bent over, removed the candles, and gently sliced the cake down the middle.

"It smells fantastic," Takeru said, breathing in deeply.

"I've never had strawberry cake for a long time," Hiroaki remarked as he began slicing the cake. "In fact, the last time was..." His voice trailed off, and the two brothers exchanged glances. "Anyway, this looks as good as anything I've ever tasted. Where did you buy it from?"

Takeru looked gleefully at Yamato. _He thinks our cake is as good as a store-bought cake! _Yamato, on the other hand, looked a little insulted.

"This is better than _any _store-bought cake, Dad," he said. "We made it ourselves!"

"You _made – _?" Hiroaki stared at the pair in disbelief. They stared back at him innocently. "Wow." He smiled. "The Ishida sons are of many talents, aren't they?"

_Make that the Ishida son AND the Takaishi son, _Takeru couldn't help thinking.

"When did you bake the cake?" Hiroaki asked as they took out plates and utensils.

"One of the nights when you were working late," Yamato replied. He dished out the slices, handing the biggest piece over to his father.

"Right under my nose and I never noticed it," Hiroaki said, shaking his head. "Well... let's dig in, then!" He cut off a chunk of cake with his fork and popped it into his mouth. Takeru and Yamato watched him expectantly.

He chewed for a while, his face expressionless. Then, noticing that they were starting to look quite anxious, he smiled broadly. "It tastes great – just like the last time I had strawberry cake."

The pair beamed, but Takeru felt oddly sad - for he knew when was the last time his father had eaten his favourite cake, and he knew all too well who had baked it for him. Even after all these years, his father could still remember the taste of it. The taste of his favourite cake, baked by somebody he had been so close to.

It sounded like something from a sappy drama series. It sounded like... love.

Not wanting to be bothered by such thoughts on a happy occasion, Takeru cut off a piece of his own slice and ate it. It _was _delicious. The cake was soft and moist, and the strawberry flavour was just right. The icing went well with the cake, too. It was undoubtedly a success.

They had the chicken casserole after the cake. That was good, too, and Takeru couldn't help admiring Yamato's cooking skills. Hiroaki seemed to enjoy everything thoroughly, and shared with them many amusing stories from his work. The last time Takeru had stayed over, he hadn't talked to his father much – but this time round, he was talking to his father more than he had ever really done in his life. It made him feel closer to his father, but at the same time, he sensed the wide bridge between the two of them. There were so many things that they didn't know about each other, so many things that they were only just finding out now. He didn't know that his father had been promoted; his father didn't know that he had started volunteering at the Animal Welfare Centre with Hikari every week for a couple of months now.

There was a contented silence at the end of the meal. Hiroaki leaned back against his chair, satisfied. Takeru had never thought that he'd be so happy to see an empty cake dish. The three of them had finished one entire cake – imagine that!

"What plans do you boys have for today?" Hiroaki asked.

"Nothing much," Yamato said, shrugging. "I guess Takeru and I will just hang around... we could play video games, I guess."

"Do you want to play, too?" Takeru asked. "We could teach you."

Hiroaki laughed. "Teach? You don't know how many times I've beat Yamato at – what's that name again?"

Takeru stared at him in amazement. "Wow," he said, turning to a rather embarrassed (and annoyed) Yamato. "Dad beat you at some game that he doesn't even know the title of?"

"I _do _work with technology, after all," Hiroaki commented.

"Well, I'm not going to lose this time round!" Yamato declared, standing up. "Come on, let's get started. We can take turns playing."

"You guys go first – this I want to see." Takeru said. He had never known that his father was a video game-expert! "I'll soak the dishes while you set up."

"Thanks, little bro," Yamato replied cheerfully as he left the room. Takeru picked up the empty dishes and headed over to the sink. His father remained in his seat, and Takeru felt just a little awkward. He couldn't remember the last time the two of them had been alone in a room together.

"You've grown so much, Takeru," Hiroaki said gruffly. "You must be a good few inches taller than the last time I've seen you."

Takeru smiled slightly as he turned on the tap. "You've grown quite a bit too, Dad." He said teasingly.

Hiroaki chuckled. There was a short silence, then he spoke again, his voice quieter.

"You and your mother are coping well, then?"

Takeru felt his breathe catch slightly and the forks he was holding nearly slipped out of his hands. He turned to look at his father. Hiroaki was looking at him rather seriously, his expression sad. Takeru smiled at him.

"We're doing really well," he told him.

"I've always been worried about you and Yamato. It's not easy, I know, being separated like this." Hiroaki continued softly.

This was the first time Hiroaki had ever talked about the divorce to Takeru. It felt strange, and Takeru knew that this was a moment he would always remember - the very first time he had such a conversation with his father. His mother had tried talking to him about it before, but Takeru had simply assured her that he was fine with it. Hiroaki, on the other hand, had always been more tight-lipped about it, not wanting to rake up the past. Takeru wondered if he and Yamato had ever talked about it before. Maybe the closeness they now felt after the celebration had prompted Hiroaki to say something. Or perhaps, like Takeru, he had been thinking about it for quite a while now.

"But it seems that the two of you have handled it really well." He stood up and smiled at his son. "I must say, after seeing what the two of you have done for me today, how close you both are..." He walked over to Takeru and clapped him on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Takeru smiled at him, feeling, to his embarrassment and horror, tears at the back of his eyes. "Thanks, Dad." He whispered, blinking them away.

"I'll go and see what Yamato's up to." Hiroaki said. Takeru nodded and watched as his father left the kitchen.

Everyone thought that Takeru was fine with the divorce. They – his parents, his friends – all thought that Takeru had coped really well with it, that he was a strong individual. Takeru knew why - he had always said that he was fine with it, that he was "doing really well". It had become the standard answer from him whenever anyone close to him wanted to ask him about it, which of late had become pretty often - because after all, wasn't he at that precarious age, when all the teenage problems begin to mount and one becomes much more aware of how different he is from his peers? Takeru hadn't wanted anyone to worry, and had used the same reply so often that he had begun to believe that he was fine, even. He had always thought that his brother had been far more affected than him, but ever since the encounter with BelialVamdemon, he wasn't so sure.

Was his deepest desire really the impossible? Had he been placing his hopes, all along, on something that would never happen?

Takeru rubbed his eyes quickly and splashed his face with some water. It was best not to think so much about it, he decided. He would go play some video games and forget about all his troubles. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he hastily left the kitchen.

**TBC**

**Well, nothing much to say, except... I found it hard to make everyone in character in this chapter, so I hope I did okay. Please review!**

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Wish In A Bottle: A Digimon Fanfiction  
Chapter Four


	5. The Three Sick Men

**I have re-christened myself as Potgenie ****- gone are the days of Pickledevil-ness!**

**Review replies on ahead. I seem to be losing quite a couple of my old reviewers, SOBZ. :(**

**Light-of-Hope-07: **Your review made my day! :) My favourite childhood author, Enid Blyton, wrote about food so beautifully that I always felt hungry, so I'm glad that I'm having this effect on you. I'm such a foodie that it makes me happy when I'm told that I write about food well. Heh. Also, I completely agree with you about how the show didn't emphasize the divorce enough. I felt that season two should have covered more of the kids' personal lives instead of constantly being about the battles; season one was more well-rounded but season two, with everyone being older, could've been a good season to touch more on these issues, in my opinion!

I tried pretty hard to make Takeruf's conversation with his father realistic, so I'm also real pleased that you liked it!

**Aster Selene: **Whoops! I can never get the Digimon's names right. MaloMyotismon is the dubbed version, is it? Thanks for pointing it out!

**Blazing Chaos: **I've always liked Takeru and Yamato's brotherly relationship in the anime, and was a little disappointed that it was so under featured in the second season – hence the decision for my first multi-chaptered digimon fanfiction to be about them. I'm glad it's been a good read for you! And yes, whether the Powder is real or not (we shall find that out soon) it will definitely have an effect on the family!

Also a big fat thanks to **Xanpluto**!!

**Extra note: Apart from my mistake of calling ****BelialVamdemon MaloMyotismon, I also discovered that I got Hiroaki's name wrong for the entire last chapter! I spelt his name as "Hiraoki". Oopsie! I have made the according changes!**

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**Wish In A Bottle: A Digimon Fanfiction  
Chapter Five**

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It was a blazing hot afternoon outside, but the air-conditioner was switched on at full blast and they were all happily relaxing. Natsuko Takaishi had been in a baking mood and had, on impulse, decided to bake her husband's favourite strawberry cake. She expertly cut the cake into half, then quarters, and handed each member of her family a large slice.

"_This tastes delicious!" Yamato smiled as he bit into the cake._

_Takeru grinned at his family as he dug into his own dish. His heart was bursting with happiness. He had his entire family together, with him, enjoying a delicious tea. His mother and father were seated next to each other, smiling and talking softly. He didn't mind that he couldn't hear their conversation; as long as they were happy, it was good enough for him._

_Rinnnnngggggggg! _

_The sharp, shrill sound cut harshly into the relaxed atmosphere of the room. Takeru didn't know how it happened, but suddenly, the mood had shifted. Natsuko's eyes were narrowed; she was looking at her husband, her expression unreadable. His expression had changed as well; it was one of annoyance and frustration. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handphone. The sound was emitting from it; it went on and on, ringing shrilly. Takeru stared at it, willing the sound to stop. It was all he could do to not put his hands to his ears._

_Rinnnnngggggggg! _

_Hiroaki simply stared at his phone. It kept on ringing. Why wasn't he picking it up? Takeru looked at his brother. Yamato was eating his slice of cake in great big bites, and he kept looking at his watch. Was he in a rush? He had seemed so relaxed just a minute ago._

"_I need to go off now," Yamato said, standing up abruptly. "I've got band practice in fifteen minutes."_

_He left before anyone stopped him. Natsuko and Hiroaki were still staring at the phone, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. _

"_Work again?" She spoke suddenly, her voice icy cold._

_Rinnnnngggggggg! _

"_Natsuko..."_

_Natsuko stood up too, glaring at Hiroaki. "It's a Sunday, Hiroaki. If you'd rather go back to your beloved office, go on ahead."_

_She pushed back her seat, marched over to Takeru and pulled him up with surprising force. "We're leaving, Takeru."_

_Rinnnnngggggggg! _

"_But – Mum – "_

_"I'll be there," Hiroaki spoke into the phone, his voice brittle._

"_NOW!"_

"No – Mum..." Takeru groaned, burying his face into his pillow. "We can't... Mmmmm..."

"Takeru, your phone!" Someone was trying to shake him awake. "Someone's calling you!"

Takeru opened his eyes blearily. His mother stood in front of him, looking anxious and worried. She had one hand on his shoulder, and her other hand held his handphone. Takeru stared at her, confused and disoriented. What had just happened?

He wasn't sitting by a table, eating cake. He wasn't trying to struggle free while his mother pulled him away. He was lying on his own bed, covers strewn on the floor, his mother standing over him.

_It was all a dream, _he realised. _It had felt so real._

He had never known the real reason why his parents divorced. But when he did have dreams about it, the reason was always the same. Work, work and more work.

Natsuko held out the phone quietly, and Takeru took it. As his hands closed over the phone, he felt a sudden wave of nausea rushing up his throat. There was a painful moment as he tried to control himself, but it was too late. He let out a shuddering gasp before throwing up all over his mother.

"Takeru!" Natsuko looked more horrified than disgusted. "Are you alright?" She bent down so that they were of eye-level, and placed a hand on his forehead. "You're all warm – and you're sweaty, too." She stood up abruptly, grabbed his wastepaper basket and handed it over to him. "Use this if you need to vomit again – I'll call the clinic." As she spoke, she bundled up his now dirty covers and scooped them up.

The fact that she hadn't even bothered about her own dirty clothes touched Takeru. "But Mum, your clothes..."

"It's nothing, dear," she said briskly. "Stay still – I'll be back in a minute." With that, she hurried out of the room.

Takeru stared at the wide-opened door and swallowed. He felt terrible. He was all cold and clammy, and he could feel beads of sweat on his forehead. It didn't help that he could still taste the horrible, sourish bile in his mouth, and his stomach churned with the taste of it. He could also feel his heart pounding, much faster than usual. _Ugh..._ w_hat is wrong with me?_

He soon became aware of the object in his hand. Oh, yeah. His phone. It had stopped ringing by then, and Takeru pressed a button to see who had called him.

It was Yamato.

Takeru blinked. nii-san? Why was he calling at this early hour (his alarm clock said nine-thirty a.m.), and when they had only just seen each other the day before? Curious, he pressed the green "call back" button and slowly put the phone to his ear.

A couple of rings, and then someone picked up.

"H – hello?"

"Nii-san?" Takeru's voice came out as a croak. He coughed a little, but it only made him feel like vomiting again, so he stopped at once. "You called me?"

"Yeah," Yamato sounded strange too. "Takeru – eh, are you feeling okay? I'm not feeling too good, and..."

"I – " Takeru blinked, sickness momentarily forgotten. Yamato sounded... as terrible as he felt. "Are _you_ sick, nii-san?" There was a short pause, and he continued softly, "I just threw up. All over Mum. She's going to get a doctor now."

On the other end, Yamato sighed weakly. "Yeah, Dad and I are not feeling too good. I had a terrible case of diarrhoea, and now I feel the need to – Oh, God, I'll call you back in a bit, alright?"

The line went dead. Takeru put down the phone and stared at it. Something was stirring at the back of his mind, but his thoughts were sluggish, and he couldn't think straight. He tried to think harder, but his head began to hurt. His stomach gave another churn and he threw up once more into the wastepaper basket.

* * *

Natsuko returned to the room holding Takeru's green mug. She had changed into a shirt – rather hastily, Takeru noted, for they did not really match her brown pants. She went over to Takeru's bed and handed him the mug.

"Thanks," Takeru said, taking a small sip of warm water.

"You threw up again?" Natsuko asked, indicating the wastepaper basket. Takeru nodded, and her look of worry deepened. "I've called the clinic. The one near our apartment is closed for today, so we have to go to another one, and it's quite a bit further. You know, Mizuki's Clinc? They're closing in a few hours, so we'll have to head there as soon as possible."

_Oh yeah, today's Sunday, _Takeru thought. _The clinics would either be closed or working for only half the day._ He took another sip of water. Mizuki's Clinic wasn't all that near – it was too far to walk to, but it was quite fast to reach there by car. Natsuko picked up the wastepaper basket.

She was about to leave the room when she suddenly turned back, as though she had just remembered something. "Did you eat anything weird or funny yesterday, Takeru?" She asked. "The doctor told me to ask you. He says you may have gotten food poisoning."

"I don't think so," Takeru replied, trying to think. His brain felt fuzzy and slow.

"Well, take your time to think about it. I'll go and clear this." His mother replied, holding up the basket slightly as she left.

Takeru leaned back against his now upright pillow, thinking back to the day before. Yesterday... he had met his brother and father. They had had a birthday celebration. All three of them were now pretty ill, as apparent from the phone call with Yamato. That could only mean...

The only common dishes that they had had together were the casserole and the cake. If it really was food poisoning (and that seemed to be the most likely prognosis), either of those dishes had to be the cause.

Takeru closed his eyes, thinking hard. It didn't seem likely that it was the casserole. After all, his brother must have made it many times before, and nothing of this sort had ever happened.

So that meant that it had to be the... strawberry cake?

_But how could it be? _Takeru thought. _The strawberries were fresh, I'm very sure of that – I've bought fruits from that stall so many times! And the ingredients are Mum's, and she's always so fussy about making sure that nothing in our house is expired. So how...?_

If he had been in his normal, healthy state, the answer would have come to him almost instantly. As it was, Takeru had to think for awhile, recalling all the ingredients that had been used in baking the cake before the awful realisation hit him.

_The Miracle Powder!_

There was no escaping the fact: The Miracle Powder was no doubt the most, well, dodgy ingredient out of the list. A weird swindler had sold it to him; the only verification that it was edible was from a random old man who had not offered any concrete evidence. Takeru groaned and slumped down back onto his bed.

It had been so easy to believe the man at the baking shop then. Takeru had taken it for granted that his words could be trusted. But now... he just felt like an idiot. A big, fat, stupid idiot who had just gotten his family into trouble.

His mother hurried back in just then, interrupting his train of thoughts. "Takeru?" She said gently as she walked over to his bedside. "We have to go off soon. Can you get up?"

Takeru nodded and slowly heaved himself off the bed. His head spun as he stood up, and it was all he could do to not throw up a third time. His stomach felt funny, and his legs felt like jelly. He wobbled about a bit and his mother reached out to steady him.

"I wonder what could have happened to you," she sighed worriedly. "You were just fine last night!"

A wave of guilt surged through Takeru as she spoke. _It's all my fault that I'm so sick now – and not to mention Dad and nii-san, _he thought miserably. _If I had made sure that we had used real flour, instead of some stupid bottle of Powder which I only THOUGHT was flour, things wouldn't have gone so wrong!_

He washed up as quickly as he could in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth as his mother puttered around in his room. He could hear her spraying disinfectant.

Once he was done and had put on a clean shirt, he stepped out of the bathroom. Natsuko smiled at him, but he could see the worry in her eyes.

"Let's get going," she said, putting down the spray bottle. "It'd be good if we can get there before the clinic gets crowded."

They left the house, Natsuko watching Takeru worriedly. The worry and guilt in the boy's mind had temporarily rendered his discomfort forgotten. Twice he tried telling his mother about the Miracle Powder, but for some reason he couldn't get the words out. It was as though his brain had short-circuited or something.

They reached Natsuko's dark blue car, parked in the multi-storey carpark next to Takeru's apartment, and got into it. As Takeru fastened his seatbelt, she turned the key in the ignition.

The engine revved up. Takeru sighed and leaned against his seat, waiting for the cool blast of the air-conditioner and for music to start playing from the radio.

Abruptly, the sound of the engine starting up died down, and the whole car became still. Takeru glanced at his mother, mildly surprised. She looked horrified.

"What happened?" He managed.

"I don't know," she said, still looking shocked. "Nothing serious, I should think. This is a pretty new car, after all."

She turned the key again. The engine started up, and she seemed to sag in relief.

_Splutter, splutter._

"This can't be happening!" Natsuko exclaimed in frustration as the engine died down once more. "Not when we need you so badly!"

Furiously, she tried starting up the car again. And again. The same thing happened - a brief starting of the engine before its abrupt demise. It was like a bad dream.

"Calm down, Mum," Takeru said quietly. "We can just go and get a taxi or something."

Natsuko looked miserable. "I don't know, Takeru. There're hardly any taxis at this hour. And, oh – the sun is so hot now, how can you possibly stand right under the heat in your current condition? This is terrible!"

But there was nothing for it, as yet another couple more turns of the key proved. After five more minutes, the pair climbed out of the car, utterly defeated.

"Let's look on the bright side," Takeru chuckled. "What else could possibly go wrong?"

Natsuko glanced worriedly at her son. Despite the fact that he could actually joke, he still looked positively ill. "Let's just get you to the doctor as fast as possible." She said with a sigh.

It took them quite a while to walk to the main road, for Takeru could not walk fast without feeling dizzy. Cars zoomed past on the road, but there seemed to be hardly any taxis.

For as long as Takeru could remember, at least ten taxis passed him by on his way to school everyday. Why were there so little taxis on the road now, then? All the taxis that zoomed by were already occupied. The minutes ticked past and Takeru could feel his mother's edginess increase – she really was anxious. She stuck her hand out as soon as she saw a cab, then sighed in dismay upon realising it was occupied.

After fifteen minutes, both of them were close to giving up. Natsuko glanced at her son. "I should've called the doctor to come to our house," she said. "Come on, let's go back."

"But isn't that really expensive?" Takeru asked.

His mother shook her head. "It'll be fine. Besides, I doubt it's possible for us to get any taxis now."

Takeru nodded, knowing his mother was right. The two were about to turn to leave when a sudden sound stopped him in his tracks. It was a sharp screeching of tires, and it sounded dangerously close to his ears.

His mother grabbed his arm at once and pulled him back. Turning back, he saw a white minivan pull up right next to them, swerving slightly and nearly going onto the kerb. Natsuko stared, her mouth wide open in shock.

There was something strangely familiar about that van...

As the two stared, the window at the driver's seat slowly rolled down.

"Do you need a ride?" A hoarse voice rasped.

Natsuko gasped, and Takeru realised, with a stab of something akin to amazement and horror, who it was.

The door opened, and a rather green-looking Hiroaki Ishida stepped out. He swayed slightly, then recovered himself and leaned against the van, looking at the pair out of bloodshot eyes.

It was his father.

**TBC**

**Ugh. The last part was... okay, I tried my best. Sorry! Please do review and tell me what you think!**


	6. Coincidences and Confrontations

**Been pretty busy with school lately, but it's holidays now so I'm posting a new chapter. Yes, I got it up in (roughly) one week! Yippee!**

**Review replies:**

**Aster Selene: **It was? AWESOME. I fwas hoping you guys wouldn't think it was kind of a stupid cliffhanger or something!

**Light-of-Hope-07:** Heh. But Enid Blyton's stories are a must to read (whether you're a kid or not!). Oh by the way, she's female... sorry but I just had to point that out! I'm actually re-watching Digimon now (after years! It's so nostalgic) and season two seemed rather disappointing at the start, but it got better after the episode where they met Wizardmon's spirit. :) But yeah, now I think season one's the better season.

**PrincessJaded: **Hey! Oops, yeah I named him Mike before I remembered the whole Japan thing. Never mind, we can all pretend it's Mi-ke (try pronouncing it that way!) since both Mi and Ke can be written in Japanese... haha.

Nah, milk might not be what caused the diarrhoea. Remember Mike and Takeru's conversation in the mall? But could it be poison? Hmmmmm... :D

**ARCtheElite: **Thanks! Yes I wish there were more good family stories too!

**HLTY: **Sorry! I do understand your review this time! Wow, how'd you translate my story? And what language do you translate it to? Cool! And I'm glad you like it!

Also thanks to **guavawolf** and **Xanpluto** for reviewing!

**This story should be drawing to an end soon. :( However, I've got a new fanfiction idea, which I'll start working on after this story ends! **

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**Wish In A Bottle: A Digimon Fanfiction  
Chapter Six**

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_The door opened, and a rather green-looking Hiroaki Ishida stepped out. He swayed slightly, then recovered himself and leaned against the van, looking at the pair out of bloodshot eyes._

_It was his father._

"Dad?" Takeru managed to splutter out. "Er... are you alright?"

He had thought he looked bad, but his father looked _awful_. His face was a pale greenish colour, and his eyes were horribly bloodshot. His hair was a rumpled mess, and his clothes were terribly mismatched. With a sudden pang, Takeru remembered that his father had eaten more cake than Yamato and him yesterday.

"I'm fine," Hiroaki croaked, though he certainly did not seem so. "You don't look so good, yourself." He gestured to Takeru as way of pointing that out, then continued, "we're on our way to the clinic. Do you guys need a ride?"

"So, nii-san's in the car too?" Takeru asked.

"He's at the back, sleeping." His father replied.

Takeru glanced at his mother. It made sense to accept the offer from his father. None of the clinics in the district would be open for long, and it was impossible to flag down a taxi. The nearest clinic was hardly within walking distance... but would she accept the offer?

There was another moment's silence. Takeru marvelled at his father's patience – despite his obvious discomfort, he seemed to sense that Natsuko needed a little more time to make a decision. Natsuko's expression was unreadable, but upon glancing at her pale son, she looked up at him and nodded, smiling her thanks.

"Would you like me to drive?" She spoke hesitantly as they walked over to the van. "I mean... you're ill, and probably not in the best condition to drive."

Hiroaki, who had turned back to the car, turned around slowly and looked her. Natsuko's hands were clasped together; she looked a little nervous, as though she shoudn't have asked.

Takeru bit his lip, hating the uncomfortable silence and wishing that his father would just answer already. It came as a great relief when his father finally agreed and allowed Natsuko to take the driver's seat.

-

Takeru sat in the front, next to his mother, while his father sat next to Yamato at the back. Yamato was asleep, oblivious to the two new additions in the vehicle. He looked like he was in a pretty bad shape as well - his hair wasn't even styled properly! Hiroaki sighed and leaned against his seat, closing his eyes and allowing himself a short rest.

Takeru's stomach was churning, but it wasn't just because he felt queasy. The guilt was gnawing at him – his carelessness with the "Miracle Powder", the fact that this carelessness had resulted in all three of them falling sick, and now all this awkwardness and tension in the car... Ugh! It was all because of him! He glanced at his mother. She was concentrating hard on the driving – a bit too hard, it appeared – but that wasn't surprising. She was driving her ex-husband's car, with said man lying ill on the seat behind her. "Awkward" was a mild word to describe the current scenario.

He turned around and looked at his brother and father. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't bring himself to talk about the cake now – this just wasn't the right time to rake up those good old times, was it? Instead, he asked, "When'd you start feeling sick, Dad?"

His father opened his eyes a little. "This morning, when I woke up," he replied hoarsely. "Don't worry, son, it's probably just food poisoning from one of those dishes yesterday. Nothing too serious."

_Nothing too serious? Right. _"Yeah," Takeru mumbled. His father did not elaborate, however. He merely closed his eyes again, and the rest of the ride passed in silence.

Natsuko turned into the carpark near Mizuki Clinic in about fifteen minutes. Hiroaki had fallen asleep by then.

"Hey," Takeru called, turning around. "Time to get up."

His brother moaned a little. Hiroaki sighed and stretched.

Yamato opened his eyes, turned, stared at his father, and practically jumped out of his skin. "Geez, Dad! What're you doing here?? You're supposed to be driving!"

"Jumpy, aren't you?" Hiroaki replied grumpily, rubbing his ears. "Did you have to shout like that? I nearly went deaf."

In spite of everything, Takeru felt the sudden urge to laugh. "Hey, nii-san," he smiled, waving a little.

Yamato's eyes practically bulged out of his sockets. "Takeru! How'd you get here! What the hell happened while I was sleeping?"

His gaze slowly drifted over to the driver's seat. Natsuko had just managed to park the car successfully (she had never been that good at parking). She turned around and smiled nervously, but tenderly all the same, at Yamato.

"Hi, Yamato." She said softly.

The expression on Yamato's face was priceless. Takeru, once again, felt the mad urge to laugh and also to take a quick snapshot of his brother's expression. His mother looked so nervous, though. She quickly started explaining to Yamato how their father had seen them on the roadside and picked them up. Takeru watched her quietly. Was it just his imagination, or did she look highly uncomfortable, as though she felt like she was an... outsider among the four of them?

_No, that can't be right, _he told himself firmly. _We were – no, are still a family. We may be separated, but we're all still related! Mum's not an outsider at all._

Unbidden, a memory of her tentatively asking if Takeru wanted her there for his father's birthday celebration popped into his mind. He could still remember her expression that day, the uncertain manner in which she had voiced the question...

"Let's go, then," Hiroaki said, once everything had been explained. All of them unbuckled their seatbelts and got off the car.

"Thanks for the lift," Natsuko said politely to Hiroaki as they walked to the clinic.

"And thanks for driving us," Hiroaki replied, rather gruffly.

Their incredulously polite exchange made Takeru feel like screaming. They were acting like complete strangers who had only met each other five minutes ago! No, wait – they were worse than that, for strangers that had just met each other at least tried to attempt at a conversation. They were acting like two strangers who were on such different wavelengths that they had nothing at all to say to each other!

_And that may actually be the truth_, Takeru reflected miserably.

He supposed both his physical discomfort and this sudden "family reunion" was making his thoughts a bit loopy. He was remembering things, now - events from the past. He remembered the day they were once again going back to the Digiworld, after a brief trip back home to Japan. He was eight, and Yamato was eleven. He had foolishly and naively believed that his entire family was back together again. He hadn't sensed everyone's discomfort, and he certainly hadn't noticed how upset Yamato had been. He remembered how Yamato used to teach him how to make tall towers with lego blocks, among other things. He remembered how Yamato had so often played the harmonica for him (having mastered it at an astonishingly early age), lulling him to sleep with the same, sweet melody. And then, there was the most recent memory, the one that had been plaguing him more often than not ever since the event occurred – his deepest desire when he had encountered BelialVamdemon.

Takeru sneaked a look at his brother and realised that Yamato was glancing surreptitiously at him, too. He shifted his gaze away quickly when Takeru looked at him, but Takeru had seen the look in his eyes. It made him uncomfortable. Yamato had been looking at him worriedly. Beyond the worry, Takeru had seen the concern in his brother's eyes as well. Could Yamato tell what was bothering Takeru? Just a few days back, he had nearly brought up the subject of the divorce with him. Takeru was sure that his brother, at least, sensed that something was wrong.

The walk to the clinic wasn't very long, but the silence made it seem like forever. The clinic was crowded when they reached, and Hiroaki let out a groan. "This is what I had been dreading," he said with a sigh. "Long queues, and having to wait with people as sick as you are."

"We're probably the worst-looking ones out of the lot, Dad," Yamato replied with a chuckle. "Everyone'll be avoiding us once you rush to the toilet to throw up."

Takeru couldn't help groaning, too. "Don't mention the words 'throw up' now!"

Natsuko smiled slightly as she watched their little exchange. "I'll go and register for you. The three of you should go and sit down first." She said, gesturing at three vacant seats.

"Thanks," Yamato said, smiling back. Natsuko looked pleased. Hiroaki and Takeru nodded as well, and she headed over to the registration counter.

Yamato's relationship with his mother had improved over the years. Once in a while, when Yamato did visit, he was capable of holding normal conversations with his mother. Sometimes, Natsuko would call him, and they'd chat for quite a bit. Takeru was glad about that. He hadn't like the two's no-talking, sullen-looks relationship back when Yamato was eleven.

The three of them settle down on the creaky plastic chairs. The clinic was small, and the crowd made the air thick and stuffy. Most of the patients that day seemed to be small children, accompanied by grumpy parents. Loud wails filled the air and the little boy that was seated next to Yamato smacked his mother's arm with a rolled-up family magazine.

"Kids these days," Yamato said, tutting and shaking his head.

"You sound like an old man," Takeru said, grinning.

"Are you saying I sound like Dad, huh?" Yamato grinned back at Takeru.

Yamato was the only person Takeru knew who behaved like an idiot when feeling ill.

Hiroaki chuckled. "I can't believe you guys are still in the mood to joke around now." He looked at the electronic plate-like device hung above the doctor's door – it flashed each patient's number in order of sequence, and when a particular patient's number was flashed on the device, it meant that it was the patient's turn. The number now read "20".

"I hope our number will still be in the twenties region," Hiroaki sighed.

Natsuko came over to them just then, holding their number slip. "You'll have to go in together, because of the rush, I'm afraid," she told them. "Oh – and your number is 38."

"38?" Yamato was horrified. "That's, like, eighteen places away!"

Natsuko nodded, smiling sympathetically. "There's no choice, unfortunately. They've already extended the opening hours for today to fit in everybody."

"Guess we just have to wait, then," Takeru said, shrugging.

There were no more vacant seats left, so Natsuko stood next to them, looking a little awkward as she towered over them. After awhile, she said, tentatively, "Do you guys want to read any magazines?"

"Nah," Yamato shook his head. "They're all probably covered in phlegm and baby drool."

Natsuko smiled. "I think they wipe the magazines every day after they close, you know."

"Well – ow!" Yamato cried out suddenly in mid-sentence. The others looked at him in bemusement. He glared down at the little boy sitting next to him. "Did you just bite me?!"

The boy grinned toothily at him, looking as innocent as ever. Yamato growled menacingly, and the boy's face crumpled.

"Oh come on, nii-san. You're scaring him!" Takeru exclaimed as what looked suspiciously like tears leaked from the boy's eyes.

It was fortunate for them that the electronic plate flashed "21" at that minute. The boy's oblivious mother scooped him up and hurried into the doctor's room, with the boy glaring at Yamato over her shoulder the entire while.

"What a brat," Yamato said, scowling and examining his arm. There were faint teeth marks on it now.

"I was wondering," Hiroaki said suddenly, "which dish would have caused the food poisoning? We only shared two dishes yesterday... the casserole and..." his voice trailed off slightly, "the strawberry cake."

Natsuko looked away ever so slightly.

The gnawing guilt, which had disappeared as the atmosphere had somehow lightened, returned to Takeru with surprising force.

"It doesn't seem like it could've been both," Yamato remarked, thinking hard. "I make the same casserole all the time, and nothing has ever happened. As for the cake, Takeru got all the ingredients from his house... and I'm sure they must be fresh, right?" He glanced inquiringly at Natsuko and Takeru.

Natsuko nodded. "I check the expiry dates regularly. The baking ingredients don't expire for another few months or so."

"Well, that's a puzzle," Hiroaki said. "But surely it must have been one of those two dishes. I guess the doctor will find out for us."

There was a short pause.

"So..." Natsuko smiled at the three of them. At that moment, she suddenly looked much younger and gentler. "I guess the birthday celebration was fun?"

Yamato nodded. "Yeah, it was."

"I discovered that I had baking genes," Takeru chimed in.

"The strawberry cake was as good as I've ever tasted," Hiroaki added quietly.

Natsuko looked slightly flustered, but recovered her composure quickly. "Yes, I remember how much you like strawberry cake," she said, smiling slightly.

Silence fell after that. Nobody said anything more. Yamato closed his eyes, apparently trying to sleep some more. He wasn't very successful, however – he winced frequently at any sudden loud cry or wail. Natsuko was examining one of the "Health Hazards" posters pinned on the wall, and Hiroaki was actually reading one of the old magazines, this particular one titled "Hot Tires".

Takeru stared at the floor, berating himself. He was acting like such a complete coward! Why was he so hesitant about telling them something so important? Who knew what the "flour" actually was? It was probably critical for everyone to know that they had ingested some weird white powder – how could he let his own shame hold him back?

He took a deep breath and looked up. "Hey," he said, and the three of them turned to look at him. "I think I know what caused the food poisoning."

Three similar expressions of surprise greeted him in response. "What is it?" Yamato asked.

"It was the strawberry cake," Takeru said, feeling ashamed as he said the words. Hardly daring to look at them, he continued, "It was the flour. Remember, nii-san, the glass bottle?"

Yamato blinked. "What was wrong with it? You said Mum accidentally tore the packaging and you guys had to transfer the flour into the bottle, didn't you?"

"What?" Natsuko looked confused now. "What are you talking about? I don't remember that ever happening..." She thought for awhile, then added, "Now that you mention it, we haven't stocked up on flour in a while, ever since Mrs. Umi borrowed that whole packet and never returned it!"

"Yeah," Takeru said miserably. "That's my point. I didn't bring that bottle of flour from home. I don't know why I lied. The truth is... I bought that bottle of "flour" from a shop. It wasn't even called flour when I purchased it."

He could see from their expressions that they were flabbergasted.

He sighed. "You know those roadside stalls that were put up outside the mall recently? There was this stall selling bottles of, erm, something called Miracle Powder. I only bought a bottle 'cos I felt sorry for the guy. I mean, he was probably a cheat, but he looked so desperate! Then after that, I had to get the ingredients for the cake, and I realised we had no flour, so I brought the Powder to the baking shop to get it checked. The old man there said it was flour, and you know how experienced he is, so I just assumed..."

A blank silence followed his long speech. Takeru looked up at them sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have stupidly taken the old man's words for the truth. I should've just gone and bought a whole new packet of flour."

Yamato shook his head. "It's okay, little bro," he said comfortingly. "It was an easy mistake to make."

"No, it wasn't!" Takeru exclaimed. "It was a really stupid mistake. I mean, anyone with common sense would know that no matter what anyone says, a weird bottle of Powder sold by some dubious guy should never be consumed, right?"

Yamato blinked at the sudden outburst, nodding mutely.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Takeru," Natsuko said gently. "You assumed wrongly this time. Just don't make the same mistake again next time, alright? At least now we know what to tell the doctor later."

Takeru stared at them. Why were they forgiving him so easily? A part of him felt relieved, now that he had confessed; however, he felt as though there was still something he needed to say, something that he couldn't quite get out. "So – you guys aren't pissed, or anything?" He asked uncertainly.

Hiroaki looked hard at his son. "Why would we be? You had my best interests at heart. It was a silly mistake, son – I'm sorry, but I've got to agree with you on that – but it's not altogether your fault. What's more important now is to get ourselves cured..." his expression looked grim as he spoke, "...and then, we should track down that swindler who sold you the 'Miracle Powder'. It's ridiculous! That guy's just going to give people false hopes and cause more food poisoning if he gets away with this."

Takeru bit his lip. "I'm not sure if he'll still be there," he said. "He did tell me that the Powder won't be effective if taken with milk, though. He said there wouldn't be any side effects... but now – perhaps..."

Yamato scoffed. "Don't listen to him and his 'Miracle Powder' crap! He was probably just making it all up."

"Yeah... well..." Takeru was feeling increasingly foolish now. "But... the thing is, what if I _had _believed it was Miracle Powder? What if deep inside I actually knew that I shouldn't have used that Powder but I took the old man's words for it - which make it even more my fault because I _knew_ - 'cos I thought that maybe just maybe the Powder might work and grant a miracle for us all?"

He said the last part very fast, words tumbling out one after another before he had fully processed them. When he looked up at them again, their expressions were quite a mixture. Yamato's was concerned, once more; Natsuko's was sad and knowing, and Hiroaki's was simply grim.

_Grant a miracle... for us all?_

Oh crap, crap and double crap. What in the world had _possessed _him to say those final three words? A miracle... for us all. He might as well have shown the three of them what his deepest desire had been when he had encountered BelialVamdemon.

Takeru had never felt more stupid and angry with himself. He definitely did _not _want to talk about the divorce with any of them – yet he had unwittingly blurted out how he felt about it. He had somehow managed to convey the meaning that he had, deep inside, hoped that the Powder might work and that was kind of like the main reason why he had used it as flour. How awkward was it, bringing the topic up _in front of his parents!_ Takeru saw that they were exchanging glances. That only made him feel worse.

"Eh, I need the bathroom." Takeru said quickly, getting up. His parents nodded together, still looking concerned. Yamato stood up, too.

"There's a long queue," he said, jerking his finger in the direction of the clinic's toilet. "You should use the public one outside – there's one near the clinic. It'd be faster."

"Oh, it's alright," Takeru said uncomfortably. "There's still loads of time," he glanced at the electronic device, which now read "25". "Besides, I don't know how to go to the public toilet."

"I know how to go, I'll bring you there." Yamato sounded surprisingly firm for somehow who still looked rather sickly pale. He pushed Takeru gently toward the exit and turned to his parents. "We'll be back soon," he told them.

"Alright," Natsuko said. "Be careful."

They left the clinic in silence, and Yamato led the way to the toilet without saying anything. Takeru wasn't fooled – he knew that his brother wanted to talk to him in private.

Maybe it was time he talked to someone about it. Maybe – just maybe – this whole thing was a sign. Their getting sick, their extremely coincidental meet-up and now, "reunion" at the clinic. It wasn't good to keep things cooped up like that and sooner or later he would have to talk about what was bothering him.

It was a good thing, then, that if Takeru had been able to choose, the person he would've chosen to talk to would be his brother.

**TBC**

**Hmm, I'm not sure how many chapters there are to go! It's either one or two followed by the epilogue, but probably one. Anyway, please review this chapter and tell me what you think – yes, you people who put this story on your Alert list but don't review! Nah, I'm just kidding; I'm honoured that I'm on your Alert list. ;) I'll try to get the next chapter up on time! Bye!**


	7. Who Says Miracles Are Impossible?

**Update's kind of belated, sorry but I got pretty busy. Anyway, here it is!**

**Review replies!!**

**Blazing Chaos: **Wow... I love your long reviews! :D I'm really glad that you like my story so much. I was very careful when writing this story, because I have never been in such a situation myself and I wasn't sure if the way I made the characters behaved was realistic. Re-reading my previous chapter, it does seem like Takeru's parents rather under-reacted to his outburst, so I'm glad you think that it's appropriate. I guess his parents just didn't know how to react to something so sudden! Your reviews are very encouraging, thanks!

**Xanpluto: **I guess it's because he's been holding all these back for quite a while now. The Miracle Powder and everything were like the last straw!

**HLTY:** Thanks for the review! It's so cool that you actually translated my fanfiction. Do you translate it to French, like what Blazing Chaos said?

**ARCtheElite: **Yep! And the hardest part to write (for me). And yes, it was the Chinese New Year holidays. I'm still recovering from a sore throat from the over-indulgence, oh my.

**PrincessJaded: **Yeah, the Powder _is _working, I suppose... in a really ironic sense. The biting bit was rather random, glad that you liked it!

**Aster Selene: **Thanks for the info! I never noticed the change in brotherly terms from season one to two. *goes off to edit every chapter* You're so well-versed in Japanese and all the terminology! I'm impressed!

**Light-of-Hope-07: **Yeah, it bugs me too! I hate waiting at clinics. XD It's kind of impossible for the family to "get back together", actually (how many divorced couples reunite?) but let's hope that this confrontation at least makes them a little bit closer!

Also thanks to **guavawolf **for reviewing! :)

**So. This is the final chapter. (No epilogue; I don't think there's a need for one.) So read on and hope you guys enjoy this final instalment! Have fun!**

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Wish In A Bottle: A Digimon Fanfiction  
Chapter Seven

* * *

With Yamato leading the way, the two brothers walked to the toilet in complete silence. They soon reached the entrance, and Yamato turned to look at Takeru.

"Here we are," he said, gesturing. Takeru was reminded, strangely enough, of a tour guide. "Don't worry, it's pretty clean."

"Right," Takeru said, stepping into the toilet. Yamato chose to wait for him outside. He quickly entered one of the cubicles and locked the door.

Once in the cubicle, he leaned his head against the door and sighed. His mind was in a whirl, and if Yamato was going to confront him, he needed to clear the thoughts in his head first.

What had made him say all those stuff – in front of his family, no less? All along, he had told himself that the Miracle Powder was a fake, that it was nothing more than some cheap powder or flour disguised as something more. He had laughed off Patamon's words, scoffed at Mike in the mall, and even got the Powder checked to prove himself right. He had been so sure that the Powder was a fake. He had told himself that miracles would never happen.

But – it was the whole deep-down thing, wasn't it? Takeru knew that he had to admit it to himself if he wanted to clear his thoughts. And yes, deep down he _had_ hoped and wondered if the Miracle Powder could really bring a, well, miracle to their family. He had known it was impossible, but he couldn't help hoping, anyway. And to top it all off, what miracle had he wanted? Takeru groaned as the painful words came into his mind. _For us all... to be back together again._

He really, really did not want to talk to Yamato about this. Yes, out of everyone he knew, Yamato was probably the best choice – but still, it didn't make things much better. He didn't want his brother to think he was silly and childish for hoping for something that was clearly impossible. And, most of all, he didn't want to be so dependent on his brother – it was as though he was running to Yamato for help (like he had done so often in the past), when Yamato was able to deal with all these last time - _all by himself_. He had always depended so much on his brother - but who did his brother have to seek solace from? Nobody. _It's just a divorce. Lots of people go through this_, Takeru told himself brutally. _Why should I be so affected? I should just learn to live with it!_

He glanced at his watch – he had been in the toilet for well over five minutes, and he decided he had better get out before Yamato got worried. He opened the door slowly and exited.

Yamato was leaning against the wall, humming to himself. Takeru recognized the tune as one of his band's songs. "Hey, I'm out," he said, walking over to his brother.

"Oh, good." Yamato straightened and looked hard at Takeru. Never one to beat around the bush, he said without hesitation, "Takeru, we need to talk."

Takeru forced out a laugh. "There's nothing to talk about, nii-san," Yamato raised an eyebrow, and he continued, "What I said in the clinic was just a little slip-up. It was embarrassing, yeah, but I didn't mean anything by it. Now let's go back before we miss our number."

Yamato sighed. "You know we won't miss our number. We're 38 in the queue, remember? And we're not going back until I talk to you about this."

Takeru scowled at his brother. The last time Yamato had been so insistent about Takeru listening to him, he was about nine years ago. Takeru had matured alot since then, and had become much more independent. The fact that Yamato was now using this old, familiar tone with him was rather disconcerting.

"Alright," Takeru sighed. He walked over to a nearby stone bench and sat down. "What do you want to talk about?"

Yamato plopped down next to him. "The divorce," he said bluntly.

_I can handle it myself, nii-san. _Takeru straightened up and looked at Yamato. "What about it?"

Yamato sighed once more. "Stop putting on that tough front, Takeru. We're _brothers_. I can see right through it."

Now it was Takeru's turn to scowl. "What tough front? I'm not putting on anything! Why can't you accept the fact that I'm dealing with the divorce as well as you did? I can handle it myself, nii-san!"

There was a pause. Then Yamato spoke, strangely quietly. "What makes you think I dealt with it well?"

Takeru stared at him, thrown off by his brother's sudden words. He had always felt that his brother had dealt with his emotions very well, hardly ever betraying any form of sadness or frustration in front of Takeru, or anyone else, for that matter. When they had all been in the Digital World, Takeru knew that his brother had had his moments of frustration and bottled-up anger, but apart from Taichi he never did take it out on anyone, and he had still been able to make it his priority to take care of Takeru. Sure, his relationship with his mother had been rocky at first, but that was completely understandable. Anyhow, they were on much better terms now, and Yamato had came through all by himself. He hadn't needed anyone to "counsel" him and make him feel better.

"Well..." Takeru said slowly, "You know... you never did say anything about the divorce. You seemed fine with it, and now, you're on good terms with Mum, and... you've just always seemed very secure about the whole issue."

"Well, you've got it all wrong if you think that way," Yamato replied at once. "Of course I was affected by the divorce! Who wouldn't be? The only reason why you think I handled it well, Takeru, is because you were too young to see how I was really like. All the fights I got into with Taichi, all the feelings I kept bottled inside of me until I nearly exploded? It's better to let everything out instead of keeping it all in, you know."

"But – still..." Takeru struggled, trying to find the right words. "It's just that – I feel stupid. I still hope that one day, we might all get back together again. When we were fighting BelialVamdemon – " he felt his face turn red, but decided to press on anyway. He had to make his point across. "we all saw our deepest desires, and I saw – I saw our whole family eating lunch together. How can I be so dumb? I mean, I know it's impossible. Why do I still think that way then?"

Yamato's eyes were sad as he surveyed Takeru. "It's natural to feel this way," he told him. "I used to feel that way all the time. Heck, sometimes I still wonder. What would it be like if Mum and Dad never got divorced? Would we be different if we actually lived under the same roof and saw each other every day?"

Takeru looked down at his knees. These same thoughts had occurred to him many times.

"There's something I've never told you, and I think now'd be a good time to," Yamato continued. "I... used to think that I wasn't good enough. I thought I was the reason why Mum and Dad divorced."

Takeru stared at him, surprised. "But why would you think that?"

"Well – I thought I wasn't good enough for Mum," Yamato sighed. "I thought that maybe I had been too naughty, or too noisy, and that I was the cause of all their arguments, and eventually, their split." He took a deep breath, then continued, "I thought Mum didn't want to take me with her because she thought I'd be too troublesome as compared to you. It's really stupid, but I thought she just didn't love me enough."

"Wow," Takeru said softly. "I never knew that."

Yamato smiled slightly. "And you thought I handled it well, huh? It wasn't only until Mum wanted to talk to me one day that I saw things clearer. Mind you, I was as reluctant as you are right now when she wanted to talk." His smiled widened a little. "So, little bro, you are _not _a silly little weakling for feeling this way. It's completely normal. Also, I know you didn't want to talk to me about it because you didn't want me to see you as a weakling. Why would I ever do that? I went through the same things as you, if not worse. Trust me, it's much better to talk about it."

Takeru gazed off at the small, stumpy tree that was next to the bench, but was not really looking at it. He had no idea that Yamato had felt this way, that he actually had had a similar heart-to-heart talk with their mother. Was he feeling the same way his brother did about three years ago? Was it – _normal? _Normal to desire the impossible, normal to have the need to pour out your feelings to someone close to you?

Yamato glanced at his brother and said, simply, "It's normal to hope, Takeru. Everyone does."

Takeru knew, inside, that his brother was right. Everyone hoped for the impossible, and he knew it. He knew Ken secretly wished that his brother had never died, and that he could bring back every single Digimon he had killed while he was Kaizer. The same was for Iori and his father. He had thought it perfectly normal for his friends to feel this way – he had just never applied this to himself.

"And as for the Miracle Powder," Yamato spoke suddenly, "You shouldn't blame yourself for it. If you want to blame anyone, blame that horrible swindler. It was an honest mistake that you made."

_He's right, _Takeru thought, and he felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. Yes, the sadness was still there, and deep down, he would always harbour the insane hope for the impossible. But at least he felt much better about them. It was okay to feel this way. He knew that now.

"Thank you, nii-san," Takeru said quietly, looking up at his brother. "You've really made me feel much better."

"My pleasure," Yamato grinned, reaching out and ruffling Takeru's hair affectionately. Takeru smiled, and Yamato stood up, stretching.

"We'd better go back," he said, pointing in the direction of the clinic. "Or else we might _really _miss our number , and Mum and Dad will skin us alive."

* * *

The two of them reached the clinic just in time and all four of them entered the Doctor's room together. Takeru was thankful that the doctor didn't raise any queries about the differing surnames, or make any reference about them as a family. Takeru, Yamato and Hiroaki were all diagnosed with food poisoning, though thankfully not a serious case. They were given medicine and instructed to stay at home to rest for the next two days.

"Boy, I'm hungry," Yamato said, rubbing his stomach as they left the clinic. "All that waiting really fuelled my craving for chicken soup."

"There's a nice restaurant down the road," Hiroaki said. "We could go there for lunch, if you want."

Natsuko smiled at Yamato and Hiroaki. "We'll go off first, then." She said. "Take care and don't eat too much. I'm surprised you even have the appetite when you're so sick!"

"I don't know why, but I feel much better already," Yamato replied, smiling slightly.

Takeru smiled at his brother and father. He was about to say goodbye, too, when Hiroaki suddenly spoke.

"It's pretty late. Why don't we have lunch together first and then I fetch you guys home? It's on the way."

Takeru blinked, surprised. He glanced at his mother at once. She looked a little surprised, too. Then she smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Sure," she looked at Takeru. "Do you feel well enough for that, dear?"

"Oh – yeah!" Takeru said quickly.

"I'll lead the way to the restaurant." Hiroaki said. He walked off, slightly ahead of the rest, and they followed.

His parents would never get back together, Takeru knew that. The differences between them were too big. Everything had changed too much for their relationship to ever be repaired. But maybe – just maybe – the two of them could still be friends.

* * *

One of the first things Natsuko did, as soon as they got home, was to contact the shopping mall about a swindler who had been selling "Miracle Powder" right outside the mall when it was nothing more then harmful powder. The satisfying reply was that Mike had been apprehended recently, for someone else had gone through the same agony and had called to complain. What the White Powder really was was flour. Expired flour, no less.

Upon making the call, she turned to her youngest son, and Takeru knew that she wanted to talk to him about what he had blurted out in the clinic. This time, he didn't resist or complain. The talk led to a conversation about Takeru's childhood, and brought back loads of nostalgic memories (including a memorable incident in which Takeru swallowed a marble and was rushed to the hospital). It was one of the nicest conversations he had ever had with his mother for a long time.

* * *

Things seemed to go back to normal after the incident. For quite a while, an image of Mike's face would float into Takeru's face whenever he saw a packet of flour. As a result, he didn't continue with the new venture of baking for quite a while, even though Yamato had sent him the recipe for the famous chocolate chip cookies.

Natsuko was more busy with work then ever, but she tried to find time to have dinner with Takeru whenever she could. Takeru appreciated that – and he was glad, too, when Yamato told him that Natsuko had asked him to come over for dinner the following weekend, and that he had said yes.

Takeru hardly talked to his father except when he visited once a year on the 1st August, but Takeru noticed that his father was now trying a bit harder. Takeru's "resistance" against any form of white powder was finally broken one day when he taught Hiroaki how to bake his beloved Strawberry Cake, under the latter's request. It turned out as delicious as the first batch – even better this time, for it had no undesired side effects.

And finally, to top it all off, the news of Mike the Swindler was published in the newspapers! Apparently, he was an experienced swindler who liked to dress up as some sort of weird, mystical character when he sold his goods. He had been sentenced to two months' jail, and had his license permanently revoked.

In a way, Takeru couldn't help but muse – in a strange, unexpected manner, the Miracle Powder had brought along changes into the Takaishi and Ishida households. Small, subtle changes, but changes that were good enough to make a pleasant difference in all their lives. Who would have thought? It was nothing more than a bottle of expired flour that had brought along all these, but if he could turn back time... Takeru knew that he would do the same thing all over again.

**FIN**

**Okay, I know I said there was going to be an epilogue but somehow, I don't see the need for one anymore. So this is the final chapter. I hope the ending isn't too cheesy... please tell me what you guys think! Hooray, I've actually managed to finish a second multi-chapter story without deleting it halfway!!**

**And with that, it's time for a shameless plug-in. Heh. I've started a new Digimon fanfiction titled "The New Neighbours". Do go check it out and review! :)**

**So, thanks to everyone who has reviewed and enjoyed my story. If not for you guys, I probably would have found it difficult to continue! Arigato!!**


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